^O^IES  Of  i^DYENTURE^eWAfl'^ie'UNION: 


Cn.     E>it,-r,;1  nlthefmlcfHce.  h\-w    Ynrk. 


Y(  )L.  6.      \  ^°^N"o':^go^TsgS^i^.!^  ^"- :       NW  YORK.       \  ^^'^^^^^^T^^'^^^^^Vm'^ 


A.  Story   ojrCJ©<a.«tr   nvCountAi: 


The  three  Unionists,  sheltered  behind  the  stone  wall,  awaited  the  rebel  charge. 


r3c 


THE  WAR  LIBTIARY. 


THE  FATAL   CARBINE; 

OK. 

THE  II^%.RVEST  OF  I>EA.TII, 


,4  Story  of  Cedar  Mountai 


WALTER  TVILMOT. 


"Do  it,  general: 
life  I  will.  I'm  y. 
time,"  and,  with  a  > 
er  shook  bauds  "w  1 1 
of  a  large  group 
followed  by  a  siuj 


stake  your 
on,  every 
,  tlie  speak- 
oiispicuous 


.'-tli-i-amp,   turned 
away. 

It  was  a  lovely  moonlight  night  in  the 
month  of  June,  186'.J.  At  that  time,  McClel- 
lan  had  advanced  with  his  magniUeentarmy 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty-six  thousand  men, 
to  the  banks  of  the  Chickahomiuy,  and, 
pushing  across,  had  fought  on  the  last  day 
of  May  the  bloody  but  indecisive  battle  of 
Seven  Pines. 

On  the  right  it  was  a  Confederate,  on  the 
left  a  Federal  success;  and  General  MoClel- 
lan  drew  back,  marshaled  his  great  lines, 
darkening  both  the  northern  and  southern 
banks  of  the  Chickahominy,  and  prepared 
for  a  more  decisive  blow  at  the  Confederate 
capital,  whose  spires  were  even  then  insight. 
Before  him,  however,  lay  the  rebel  army, 
commanded  now  by  General  Robert  E.  Lee, 
who  had  succeeded  Johnston,  wounded  in 
the  battle  of  Seven  Pines. 

The  moment  was  favorable  for  a  heavy 
attack  by  Lee.  Jackson  had  just  driven  be- 
fore him  the  combined  forces  of  Shields  and 
Fremont,  and  on  the  bloody  field  of  Port 
Republic  ended  the  great  campaign  of  the 
valley  at  a  single  blow. 

The  veterans  of  his  command  could  now 
be  concentrated  on  the  banks  of  the  Chicka- 
hominy against  McOlellan;  a  combined  ad- 
vance of  the  forces  under  Lee  and  Jackson 
might  save  the  rebel  capital. 
How  should  the  attack  be  made  ? 
A  council  of  war  was  called.  In  this  coun- 
cil General  Stuart  boldly  proposed  an  at- 
tack upon  McClellan's  left  wing  from  the 
direction  of  James  River,  to  cut  him  off 
from  that  base. 

This  suggestion  was  not  adopted ;  the  de- 
fenses were  regarded  as  by  far  too  strong. 
It  was  considered  a  better  plan  to  attack  the 
Federal  army  on  the  north  bank  of  the 
Chickahominy,  drive  it  from  its  works,  and 
try  the  issue  in  the  fields  around  Cold  Har- 
bor. 

The  great  point  was  to  ascertain  if  this 
was  practicable,  and  especially  to  And  what 
defenses,  if  any,  the  Federals  had  to  guard 
the  approach  to  their  right  wing. 

If  these  were  slight,  the  attack  could  be 
made  with  fair  prospects  of  success.  Jack- 
son could  sweep  around  while  Lee  assailed 
the  lines  near  Mechanicsville;  then  one 
combined  assault  would  probably  defeat  the 
Union  forces. 

In  order  to  find  the  character  of  the  en- 
emy's works  beyond  the  stream— his  posi- 
tions and  movements— General  Stuart  had 
just  been  directed  to  take  a  portion  of  his 
cavalry,  advance  as  far  as  Old  Church,  if 
practicable,  and  then  be  guided  by  circum- 
stances. 

Such  were  the  instructions  he  had  just  re- 
ceived, when  Lee  took  his  hand,  and  earnest- 
ly asked : 

"  Can  you  reach  the  church,  Stuart,  find 
out  all  I  want  to  know,  and,  above  all,  re- 
turn in  safety?" 

The  great  cavalry  rider  of  the  South 
promptly  replied : 

"  Do  it,  general  1  You  may  stake  your 
life  I  will.  I'm  yours  to  count  on  every 
time." 

Then,  with  a  careless  laugh,  he  warm- 
ly shook  the  otner's  hand  and  turned 
away. 

As  the  rebel  cavalier  mounted  his  horse  on 
that  bright  moonUght  night  he  was  really  a 
gallant  figure  to  look  at. 

The  gray  coat  buttoned  to  the  chin ; 
light  French  saber  balanced  by  the  pistol  in 
its  black  holster;  the  cavalry  boots  above 
the  kuee,  and  the  brown  hat  with  its  heavy 
black  plume  floating  above  the  bearded 
features,  the  brilliant  eyes,  and  the  huge 
mustache,  which  curled  with  laughter  at 
the  slightest  provocatiou— these  made  Stuart 
the  perfect  picture  of  a  gay  cavalier,  and 
the  spirited  horse  he  rode  seemed  worthy  of 
such  a  rider. 
Catching  up  with  his   column  of  about  fif- 


teen hundred  horsemen,  and  two  pieces  of 
horse  artillery,  Stuart  pushed  on  northward 
as  if  going  to  join  Stonewall  Jacksou,  and, 
reachnig  the  vic.nity  of  Taylorsville,  near 
Hanover  Junction,  ordered  his  troops  into 
bivouac  for  the  night. 

He  himself  had  dismounted  under  a  wide 
spreading  tree,  and  while  standing  beside 
his  favorite  horse,  was  resting  his  elbows 
upon  the  saddle,  gazing  thoughtfully  to- 
ward his  busy  men,  and  yet  with  a  far-away 
expression. 

Presently,  he  was  approached  by  Colonel 
William  H.  F.  Lee,  one  of  his  most  trusted 
supporters,  who  laughingly  asked : 

■'  Are  you  plotting,  general  T' 

"Hardly  that,"  was  the  reply.  "I  was 
simply  wondering  what  it  was  best  to  do 
with  myself  for  the  next  three  or  four  hours. 
I  tell  y^u  what  it  is,  Lee,  war's  all  well 
enough— in  fact,  it's  a  glorious  trade;  but, 
after  all,  a  man  wants  a  taste  of  something 
else  once  in  awhile;  a  glimpse  of  society,  for 
instance,  and  the  sight  of  a  pretty  woman's 
face." 

"  There's  several  places  in  this  neighbor- 
hood where  you  might  spend  a  very  agree- 
able evening,"  suggested  Lee. 

"True;  and  I  was  just  thinking  ;  there's 
Hickory  Hill,  Colonel  Wickham's  place,  you 
know.  The  colonel  is  badly  wounded,  and 
would,  no  doubt,  be  very  glad  to  see  us. 
What  do  you  say  'Z  Have  you  a  mind  to  take 
a  gallop  over  there  with  me  ?" 

"I  should  like  nothing  better!"  exclaimed 
Lee,  with  alacrity.  "  That  is,  if  you  can  put 
up  with  such  a  poor  companion  as  myself." 

"Come — come?  don't  depreciate  your- 
self," said  Stuart;  "but  mount,  and  let  us 
be  off." 

"Shall  we  take  an  escort,  general  ?"  asked 
the  colonel,  when  he  was  seated  in  the 
saddle. 

"What's  the  use?"  was  the  reply.  "We 
shall  meet  none  but  friends.  Forward !"  and 
away  they  galloped  down  the  road. 

Hickory  Hall,  a  noble  Southern  mansion, 
surrounded  by  ample,  and,  in  times  past, 
well-kept  grounds,  was  reached  in  due  time; 
and,  after  sending  their  horses  to  the  stables, 
the  two  Confederate  ofBcers  entered  the 
house,  where  they  were  received  and  warm- 
ly o'elcomed  by  Colonel  Wickham  and  his 
family. 

To  say  that  the  visitors  were  most  hospita- 
bly entertained,  is  only  to  state  what  always 
follows  the  reception  of  a  welcomed  guest  in 
the  Sunny  South,  and  the  good  cheer  was  so 
abundant,  and  so  thoroughly  enjoyed  on  this 
occasion,  that  it  was  not  long  before  General 
Stuart  fell  asleep  in  his  chair,  and  the  two 
colonels  found  it  difBcult  work  to  keep  up 
the  conversation. 

All  at  once  there  was  a  sound  without- 
distant  at  first;  but  which  every  moment 
drew  nearer  and  nearer,  and  which  at  length 
caught  the  attention  of  all,  and  brought 
Stuart  to  his  feet  with  a  start. 

"Cavalry!"  he  exclaimed.  "Friends  or 
foes— that's  the  question  ?   and  one  we  must 


get  a  chance  to  speak  with  you  again.  Now 
to  reconnoiter." 

They  hurried  to  the  rear  of  the  house, 
which  was  rapidly  being  surrounded  by 
Federal  troops,  as  one  glance  was  enough  to 
determine,  and,  by  a  shrewd  maneuver, 
made  their  way  out  of  the  back  door,  past 
the  kitchen- a  separate  building,  as  is  usual 
in  the  South — and  so  reached  the  stable 
where  their  horses  had  been  stalled. 

In  a  moment  they  were  in  the  saddle,  and 
fairly  out  upon  the  road  before  their  escape 
was  discovered.  Then  what  a  wild  shout 
went  up! 

"After  them  —  after  them!"  cried  the 
Union  leader.  Captain  Fletcher  Burnham. 
"  I  tell  you  one  of  them  is  Stuart  himself!" 
and  the  mad  chase  began  in  dead  earnest. 

Fletcher  Burnham's  party  numbered  some 
twenty-five  or  more  men— as  brave  and  dar- 
ing a  body  as  ever  sat  in  saddle,  and  they 
needed  only  to  know  that  it  was  Stuart  they 
were  after  to  exert  themselves  to  the  very 
utmost. 

How  those  horses  did  fly  over  the  ground ! 
The  mere  memory  of  it  thrillsme  to  this  very 
hour. 

Every  now  and  then  revolvers  and  carbines 
would  ring  out : 

Crack— crack— crack ! 

Still  the  two  rebel  ofBcers  kept  steadily  on 
their  way,  and  Taylorsville  was  every  mo- 
ment growing  nearer  and  nearer. 

"Fire  again  !"  ordered  Burham.  "It  won't 
do  to  lose  them  now,"  and  at  least  twenty 
carbines  rang  out-  but  still  the  fugitives 
kept  on  as  though  not  a  single  shot  had  been 
fired. 


"Give  them  another  shot!"  commanded 
the  young  captain,  "  and  Are  low  this  time. 
Try  to  hit  their  horses ;  that'll  fetch  'em,  I 
fancy." 

Once  more  the  sound  of  the  weapons  broke 
upon  the  air. 

"  Ah!  one  of  them's  down— ain't  he,  Char- 
ley?" exclaimed  Buruham,  suddenly,  ap- 
pealing to  his  friend  aud  lieutenaut.  Charley 
Fairchild,  who  wasridiug  by  his  side. 

"I'm  not  quite  certain,  cap,"  responded 
Charley.  "They're  in  the  shade  of  that 
clump  of  trees  yonder,  and  1  can't  make 
them  out." 

"No  more  can  I,"  said  the  captain,  iu  an 
irritated  tone;  "  and,  by  Jove!  if  they've 
managed  to  escape  us,  after  all,  I  shall  be 
mad  enough  to  kick  myself.  I  shall— apd 
with  right  good  will,  too." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  shadow 
of  the  woods,  and  they  were  not  long  iu  sat- 
isfying themselves  that  the  two  fugitives 
really  had,  iu  the  most  mysterious  and  un- 
accountable manner  in  the  world,  given 
them  the  slip. 

It  was  some  time  before  Fletcher  Burnham 
was  willing  to  acknowledge  himself  fairly 
beat;  but,  at  last,  he  was  forced  to  do  so, 
and  then,  turning  to  his  friend,  he  said,  iu  a 
tone  of  conviction : 

"Never  mind,  Charley.    I  know  what  the 


and  if  we  don't  succeed  in  decimating  his 
forces  before  he  gets  through,  why,  I'm 
mighty  mistaken  ;  that's  all." 


CHAPTER  II. 

GRIT  CAEEOI.L,  THE  UNION  SCOUT. 

The  chase  over,  the  Union  cavalry  slowly 
returned  to  camp,  and  the  young  leader— for 
Burnham  had  not  yet  seen  the  twenty-sixth 
anniversary  of  his  birth-day— springing  to 
the  ground,  threw  his  bridle  to  an  orderly, 
and  started  off  at  a  rapid  pace  toward  his 
quarters. 

A  trooper  was  standing  before  the  en- 
trance. He  was  a  noble  specimen  of  the 
Northern  soldier— a  perfect  giant  in  build 
and  strength. 

"  Ah !  Dan ;  it's  you,  eh  ?"  said  the  captain. 
"  Seen  anything  of  Grit — Grit  Carroll,  the 
scout?" 

"Yes,  captain,"  responded  Dan  Godfrey, 
with  the  usual  military  salute.  "  He  was 
about  here  not  more  than  fifteen  minutes 
ago^  and  seemed  quite  disappointed  when 
he  learned  that  you  had  not  yet  returned. 
Guess  he's  in  camp  now." 

"  Hunt  him  up  then,  will  you,  and  bring 
him  to  my  quarters." 

Dan  again  saluted,  and  hastened  away. 

L!aptain  Burnham  entered  his  tent;  and, 
having  seated  himself,  at  once  fell  into  an 
attitude  of  deep  meditation,  from  which  he 
was  at  last  aroused  by  Dan,  who  suddenly 
presented  himself,  with  the  concise  words : 

"He's  here,  cap'n." 

"  Ah !  let  him  come  in." 

The  next  moment  Grit  Carroll,  the  Union 
scout  of  the  Potomac,  stood  before  him. 

One  glance  at  this  most  remarkable  man 
was  enough  to  satisfy  any  one  that  he  was  a 
brave  and  noble  patriot— a  glorious  hero, 
who,  if  he  was  battling  against  his  own  state 
and  his  own  people,  was  doing  it  from  a 
sense  of  duty— from  a  true  and  undying  love 
for  the  Union  our  fathers  established— that 
Union  which  alone  makes  our  country  re- 
spected and  feared  throughout  the  world. 

Grit  waited,  while  Captain  Burnham  re- 
garded him  thoughtfully  for  a  time.  At 
length  he  ventured  to  say : 

"You  sent  for  me,  captain." 

"Yes,"  responded  the  officer;  "and  you, 
it  seems,  had  been  here  seeking  me." 

Yes;  I  was  anxious  to  know  if  you  had 


important  information,"  said  Grit. 

"Ah!  what  is  it?  I  know  full  well.  Grit, 
that  whatever  comes  from  you  is  reliable; 
and,  therefore,  I  am  greatly  interested, "said. 
Burnham'  "I  found  ererythiug  to-night 
e.\actly  as  you  said  I  would,  even  to  the 
number  of  men  Stuart  started  out  with." 

"  Vou  didn't  take  him  at  the  colonel's?" 

"  No  Confound  it,  the  men  I  sent  to  watch 
the  stables  didn't  get  there  in  time.  We  saw 
them  the  moment  they  struck  the  road, 
however;  and  then  the  the  tallest  kind  of  a 
race  began,  while,  at  the  same  time,  the  men 
kept  up  a  running  fire  upon  them.  How  in 
the  world  they  managed  to  escape  with 
their  lives  is  more  than  I  am  able  to  under- 
stand." 

"Did  you  drive  them  clean  into  their 
camp,  cap'n?" 

"No.    They  disappeared  in  a  little  clump 


THE  WA.Il  LIBRARY. 


i  y  ^ 


I  tii.-i'S,  just  tbis  side  of  Tayloi-sville— disap- 
I' Mied,  I  tell  yoH,  exactly  as  though  the 
:; round    had   opened  aud  swallowed    them 

■  I  understand,"  nodded  Grit,  "those  fel- 
lows are  better  acquainted  in  these  parts 
than  your  men,  cap'u." 

•'  But  we  examined  every  inch  of  ground," 
asserted  the  captain. 

•'  Did  you  ride  up  and  down  the  deep  gul- 
ly that  runs  through  the  woods  in  a  south- 
easterly direction  1*"  aslced  the  captain. 
'    "No,"  was  the  reply ;  "but  we  examined 
it  Closely." 

"  Did  you  looli  carefully  in  that  part  just 

"  I  can't  r\:iVily  swear  to  that." 
"..\h,  lainain,  lulieve  me,  there's  just 
where  you  iiKMic  y.>nr  mistalse.  There  is  a 
cavernons-likc  [.'ac-  there,  washed  out  liv 
the  floods,  and  luvttyinu.h  ,-.in.rahd  now 
Ijy  vegetation,  tliut  would  holil  at  loast  a 
dozen  mounted  uicn,  lluiI  niuct\  -iiino  ,uit  of 
every  hundred  would  pass  ii  witliinit  even 
dreaming  that  it  could  conceal  a  single  per- 


more   thoroughly? 
regretfully. 

of    niv    heart,"' said 


"  That's  true,  at  least." 

•'Yes ;  and  so  they  escaped,  and  now,  the 
next  thing  is  to  catch  the  cunning  fox  at 
some  other  time  and  in  some  other  place." 

"  Well,  let  it  rest  for  the  present,"  said  the 
captain.  "  Didn't  I  understand  you  to  say 
that  you  had  other  news  for  me  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Does  it  concern  this  grand  raid  ?" 

"  In  a  measure,  yes." 

"Let's  hear  it." 

"  Xf  General  Stuart  makes  the  report  Lee 
thinks  he  will,  aud  which,  mark  you,  I 
know  he  will.  It  has  been  decided  by  the 
eueniy  to  cross  the  Chickahominy  above 
our  right,  aud  attack  the  force  now  on  the 
east   liank  of  the  stream.    Stonewall  Jack- 


I  an  important  nature  that  it  sent  Captain 
Fletcher  Burnham,  now  acting  as  major,  to 
Hanover  Court  House  with  a  battalion  of 
some  five  or  six  hundred  men,  at  a  very 
early  hour. 

Have  you  ever  visited  this  picturesque 
spot,  reader? 

Well,  you  should  have  looked  upon  it  on 
that  bright  day  in  June— upon  its  old  brick 
court-house,  where  Patrick  Henry  made  his 
famous  speech  against  the  parsons— its  an- 
cient tavern— its  modest  roofs— the  whole 
surrounded  by  the  fertile  fields  waving  witli 
golden  grain.  All  this  you  sliould  liave 
looked  upon;  and  then  you  should  have 
taken  note  of  Buruliam's  cavalry,  like  a 
vast  flock  of  bluebirds— as  the  rebels  were 
in  the  habit  of  calling  them— lost,  as  it  were, 

this  pleasant  nest,  set  in  a  sea  of  rippling 


>per- 


M'l'iai.li-   loroo   will   lio  oslontatiously  sent 

!ii  older  to  give  the  imjiression  that  a  raove- 
riioiit  from  that  quarter  upon  Washington 
!^  ill  contemplation.  Butafterall,  cap'n,  1 
lout  know  but  this  information  ought  to 
go  right  straight  to  MctClellan." 

"The  moveinentis  not  to  be  carried  out 
until  Stuart  has  returned,  you  say?"  asked 
Burnham,  quickly. 

"  No— it  depends  somewhat,  and  perhaps 
altogether,  upon  the  condition  in  which  he 
iiiids  our  defenses." 

■I'obe  sure;  then  suppose  you  let  the 
111  itter  rest  with  meuntilsome  time  to-mor- 

'■  \'or>-  wi.di  ;  as  1  actually  belong  to  your 
ooiiiinanil,  captaiii,  I  roiisiiTcr  myself,  in  the 

■ijooii!  ui'id  nou  tor'wbat  I  wanted  to 
1  know  how  mortally  anxious  I  am 
onor  of  capturing  or  killing  this 
rebel  raider,  Stuart.  Well,  I  want  you  to 
make  sure  of  his  next  move,  aud  let  me 
know  just  what  it  is  going  to  be,  and  when 
a  good  opportunity  is  likely  to  offer  for  me 
to  swoop  down  upon  him  and  gobble 
him  up." 

All  right,  cap'n ;  I'm  pretty  certain  he's 


siy. 


Qg  (or  Old  Church  now,  as 


told 


J°" 


i  keep 


get  the  thing    dead  to 
sted.'- 


good-night.     But,   by 
tiie  way,  i  want  to  say  to  you  before  you  go 

tlio  iiianiit  r  in  whii  li  you  do  your  duty;  and 
thai,  as  1  told  you  luii/c  before,  if  you  have 
aiiv  iiioliiiatioii  to  wear  chevrons  on  your 
.-lo.x..,   I,  myself,   will__see  to  it  that  you 

I  am  ur.atly  oiiiiged  to  you,  cap'n,"  re- 
1  1  ilni,  with  a  Shake  of  the  head;  "but, 

I  I  lot  is,  I  liave  no  such  inclination  at 
I  -out.  and,  whafsmore,  I  never  expect  to 
lia\  o.  But,  in  easel  ever  should  aspire  to  be 
aiiytliiug  more  than  a  mere  private  and 
scout,  I  won't  fail  to  let  you  know." 

■•Ah,  well!  perhaps  you  are  right,"  said 
IJurnhan],  hastily;  "and  now,  once  more, 
good-night." 

1  "Good-night,"  returned  the  scout,  as  he 
Viuietly  withdrew ;  "1  shall  have  news  for 
k,  before  daylight." 

Df  such 


wheat  and  waving, 

folia-e. 

Their  horses   >t 

od    ready  saddled   in   the 

street,   and    tins 

lailv    mass    was  suddenly 

Ei^officS^snmil'h 

hind  a    wooded   knoll,  in 

1   his   whole  column   was 

drawn    up  ready 

command. 

Before  he  gave  the  signal,  the  general  dis- 
patched Colonel  Fitz  Lee  around  to  the 
right  to  flank  and  cut  off  the  Union  party. 

All  at  once  the  scouts  in  front  were  de- 
scried by  the  Federal  cavalry;  shots  re- 
sounded •  aud,  seeing  that  his  presence  was 
discovered,  Stuart  gave  the  word,  and 
swept  at  a  thundering  gallop  down  the 
hill. 

The  startled  bluebuds  did  not  wait ;  they 
were  too  much  taken  by  surprise.  The  whole 
squadron  hastily  got  to  horse— then,  presto ! 
they  disappeared  in  a  dense  cloud  of  dust, 
from  whence  echoed  some  parting  salutes 
from  their  carbines. 

Stuart  pressed  on  rapidly,  taking  the  di- 
rect road  to  Old  Church ;  and  all  went  well 
until  he  arrived  near  a  place  called  Hawes' 
Shop,  in  a  thickly  wooded  spot,  when  sud- 
denly and  unexpectedly  he  was  Hetcely 
charged  by  Burnham's  full  command. 

For  a  time  the  fight  was  hot— even  desper- 
ate; but  Burnham  very  soon  understood 
what  he  ought  to  have  thought  of  before  he 
started  out  that  morning— that  his  little 
troop  had  no  chance  against  three  times 
their  number;  then,  slowly  and  sullenly,  he 
began  to  retire. 

Yet,  a  the  very  last,  anxious  to  accomplish 
his  end,  he  suddenly  wheeled  and  alone 
dashed  on  toward  the  enemy  at  full  gallop, 
and  when  near  the  head  of  his  column,  fired 
twice  at  Stuart,  then  once  more  he  wheeled 
short  about  and  went  back  at  full  speed  to 


ami  sharp  cai 
ing  voice : 

"Close  up!  Form  fours!  Draw  sabers! 
Charge!'  Aud  now  the  Confederates  pur- 
sued at  headlong  speed,  uttering  shouts  and 
yells  sufficiently  loud  to  awaken  the  dead  of 
centuries! 

The  men  were  evidently  exhilarated  by 
the  chase,  the  Federals  just  keeping  near 
enough  to  make  an  occasional  shot  practi- 
cable. 

Once  again  they  made  a  stand,  and  then, 
alter  a  sharp  fight,  a  considerable  number 
were  either  wounded  or  captured,  and  most 
of  these  proved  to  belong  to  the  company 
in  which  Colonel  Fitz  Lee  had  formerly  been 
alieutenaut. 

It  was  quite  laughable  to  see  the  evident 
pleasure  which  "  Colonel  Fitz,"  as  he  was 
generally  called,  took  in  inquiring  after  his 
old  cronies.  "  Was  old  Brown  alive?  Where 
was  Jones  now?  and  was  Roljinson  sergeant 
still?"  Colonel  Fitz  never  stopped  until  he 
found  outeverything;  or,  rather  he  wouldn't 
have  stopped  if  there  hadn't  have  come  an 
interruption. 

The  prisoners  -wdTe  still  laughing  as  they 
recognized  him,  or  were  answering  his  in- 
numerable questions,  when  all  at  once  a 
cavalryman  rode  up,  and  saluting  Stuart, 
said: 

"  We  have  just  captured  a  deserter,  sir." 

"A  deserter?" 

"Yes,  general.' 

"  Where  is  he?"  was  Stuart's  next  brief  in- 
terrogatory. 

"  Coming  yonder,  general,"  answered  the 
cavalryman. 

"Gentlemen,  this  looks  bad,"  said  Stuart, 
turning  to  his  ofBoers  with  lowering  brow. 
CHAPTER  IIL 

A   FEARFUL  THAaEDV. 

Again  General  Stuart  spoke: 
"  How    do    you    know   this  man  is  a  de- 
serter?" he  asked. 


promptly. 
"Whereishefron 


■oldly.  wi 


"  Caroline  county." 
The  man  even  mentioned  the  town,  which 
was  a  romantic  place  on   the  banks  of  the 
Rappahannock. 
"  What  is  his  name  ?" 
"  Carroll— Eliuei  Carroll." 

ap,"  said  Stuart,  i 
lance  from  the  blue 
and  black  feather.  I 
nee  mounted  men 

iparently  eighteen 
aud  wore  the  blue 
low,  of  a  private  in 


he  returned  the  dai  k -laiM,  oi  ^^luan  nith 
the  air  of  one  who  says:  ■■  What  do  you  hnd 
in  my  appearance  to  make  you  fi.Y  your  eyes 
upon  me  so  Intently." 

In  another  moment  he  was  in  Stuart's  im- 
mediate presence,  and  calmly,  quietly, 
without  the  faintest  exhibition  of  embar- 
rassment, or  any  emotion  whatever,  waited 
to  l.>e  addressed. 

The  rebel  general's  words  were  curtest  of 
the  curt. 

"  Is  this  the  man  V"  he  demanded. 

"Yes,  general,"   replied  one  of  the  escort. 

"  You  say  he  is  a  deserter?" 

"Yes,  sir;  I  knew  him  in  Caroline  county, 
wlien  he  joined  Captain  Watson's  company ; 
and  there  is  no  sort  of  doubt  about  it,  gen- 
eral, as  he  frankly  acknowledges  that  he  Is 
the  same  person." 

"  Acknowledges  it?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  acknowledges  that  he  is  Elmer 
Carroll,  of  Caroline  county,  and  that  after 
joining  the  South  he  deserted." 

Stuart  flashed  a  quick  glance  at  the  pris- 
oner, and  seemed  at  a  loss  to  understand 
what  fatuity  had  induced  him  to  testify 
against  himself,  thereby  sealing  his  fate. 

His  gaze — clear,  fiery,  meuaeiug— was  re- 
turned by  the  youth  with  apathetic  calm- 
ness. Not  a  muscle  of  his  countenance 
moved,  and  those  who  stood  by  now  had  an 
opportunity  to  look  at  him  more  atten- 
tively. 

He  was  even  younger  than  they  had  at 
first  thought  him— indeed,  a 
complexion  was  fair.  Ills  1 
curling,  his  eyes  blue,  mild, 
their  expression,  as  they  uu 
glances  of  the  rebel  leader, 
and  almost  as  confiding. 

More  than  one  brave  man  there  found  it 
impossible  to  suppress  a  sigh,  so  painful  was 
the  thought  that  this  really  noble-looking 
youth  would  probably  soon  be  lying  low 
with  a  bullet  through  his  heart. 

It  has  been  said  by  those  who  knew  him 


Hi: 


girl's— ay. 


that  a  kinder  hearted  man  than  General 
J.  E.  B.  Stuart  never  lived.  However  this 
may  be,  one'thiug  is  certain,  in  all  that  ap- 
pertained to  his  profession  and  duty  at,  a 
soldier,  he  was  simply  inexorable. 

Desertion,  in  his  estimation,  was  one  of 
the  deadliest  climes  of  which  a  human  being 
oould  l.o  ^uiliv,  and  his  course  was  plain, 
his  iv..oliilioii  immov.able. 

■■  What  i.^  voiu-  name?"  asked  the  general, 
coldly,  w  ith  u  dark  aud  lowering  brow. 

"Elmer  Carroll,  sir,"  was  the  response,  in 
a  mild  and  pleasing  voice,  in  which  it  was 
utterly  impossible  to  discern  the  least  trace 
of  emotion. 

"  Where  are  you  from  ?" 

"  I  belong  to  Burnham's  command— the 
cavalry  that  engaged  you  just  now,  sir." 

The  voice  had  not  changed  in  the  least,  a 
calmer  tone  was  never  heard. 

"Where  were  you  born?"  continued 
Stuart,  as  coldly  as  before. 

"In  Caroline  county,  Virginia,  sir." 

"  Did  you  belong  to  the  Southern  army  at 
any  time?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

The  utter  coolness  of  the  speaker  was  in- 
credible. Stuart  could  only  look  at  him  for 
a  moment  in  silence,  so  astonishing  was  this 
equauimity  at  a  time  when  his  life  aud  death 
were  in  the  balance. 

Not  a  tone  of  the  voice,  a  movement  of 
the  muscles,  or  a  tremor  of  the  lips  indicated 
consciousness  of  his  danger.  The  eye  never 
quailed,  the  color  in  his  cheek  never  for  an 
instant  faded. 

The  prisoner  acknowledged  that  he  was  a 
deserter  from  the  Southern  army,  with  the 
simplicity,  caudor.^and  calmness  of  one  who 
saw  in  that  fact  nothing  extraordinary,  or 


fU. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


to  affect  his  des- 


ealculated  in  any  n 
tiuy  unpleasantly. 

Stuart's  eyes  tiasbed  ;  he  could  not  under- 
stand such  apathy;  but  ia.  war  tbere  is  little 
time  to  investigate  psychological  pheno- 
mena. 

"  So  you  were  in  our  rauks,  and  you  went 
over  to  the  enemy?"  he  said,  with  ii  sort  ot 
growl. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  calm  reply. 

'  You  were  a  private  in  that  squadron  of 
cavalry  that  attacked  us  just  now?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Stuart  turned  to  an  ofBcer,  and  pointing 
to  a  tall  pine  near,  said  in  brief  tones: 

"  Hang  him  to  that  tree !" 

Then  it  was  that  a  change — sudden,  awful, 
horrible — came  over  the  face  of  the  pris- 
oner. 

At  that  moment  those  about  him  read  in 
his  distended  eyeballs  the"  vision  of  sudden 
death!" 

The  youth  became  ghastly  pale,  and  the 
eyes,  before  so  vacant  and  apathetic,  were 
all  at  once  injected  -with  blood,  and  full  of 
piteous  fright. 

It  might  have  been  seen  in  an  instant  that 
the  poor  boy  had  not  for  one  single  moment 
realized  the  terrible  danger  of  his  position  ; 
and  that  the  appalling  words,  "  Hang  him 
on  that  tree!"  had  burst  upon  him  with 
the  sudden  and  stunning  force  of  a  thunder- 
bolt. 

Human  countenances  have  been  seen  ex- 

Sressing  every  phase  of  agony ;  ay,  many 
ave  seen  the  writhing  ot  the  mortally 
wounded,  as  their  life-blood  welled  out,  and 
the  horror  of  the  death-struggle  fixed  on  the 
cold,  upturned  faces  of  the  dead ;  but  never 
had  there  been  witnessed  an  expression  more 
terrible  and  agonizing  than  that  which  pass- 
ed over  the  face  of  the  boy-deserter,  as  he 
thus  heard  his  awful  sentence. 

He  had  evidently  regarded  himself  as  a 
mere  prisoner  of  war ;  and  now  h.-^  was  con- 
demned to  death ! 

He  had  looked  forward,  doubtless,  to  mere 
imprisonment  at  Richmond  until  regularly 
exchanged,  when  "  Hang  him  to  that  tree!" 
burst  upon  his  ears  like  some  avenging  Nem- 


already  the  rope  aroimd  his  neck— he 
choked. 

When  he  spoke,  his  voice  soiuided  like  a 
death-rattle. 

An  instant  of  horror-struck  silence ;  a  gasp 
or  two  as  if  the  words  were  trying  to  force 
their  way  against  some  obstacle  in  his 
throat. 

Then  the  sound  came. 

His  tones  were  not  loud,  impassioned, 
energetic ;  not  even  animated.  A  sick  terror 
seemed  to  have  frozen  him.  When  he  spoke, 
it  was  in  a  sort  of  moan. 

"  I  didn'nt  know,"  he  murmured,  in  low, 
husky  tones.  "  I  never  meant,  when  I  went 
with  them,  to  do  anything  wrong— to  fight 
against  my  own  friends.  They  told  me  it 
was  all  right :  so  did  another.  They  knew 
who  I  was— they  had  been  told  I  was  a 
Southerner— and,  so  help  me  God !  I  haven't 
fired  a  shot  to-day.  I  was  in  the  I'ear  with  a 
captured  horse.  Oh  !  general,  spare  me.  I 
never " 

There  the  voice  died  out ;  and,  as  pale  as  a 
corpse,  trembling  in  every  limb— a  spectacle 
of  helpless  terror  which  no  words  can  de- 
scribe— the  boy  awaited  his  doom. 

Stuart  had  listened  in  silence;  his  gaze  riv- 
eted upon  the  speaker,  his  hand  grasping  his 
heavy  beard,  his  lips  tightly  compressed. 

For  an  instant  he  seemed  to  hesitate — life 
and  death  were  poised  in  the  balance.  Then, 
with  a  cold  look  at  the  trembling  deserter, 
he  said  to  the  men  : 

"  Take  him  away,  and  carry  out  the  order. 
Bv  his  own  showing  he's  not  fit  to  live." 

^Vith  these  words  he  turned  and  galloped 


off. 


once  led  to  the  pine 


The  boy  who  had  so  earnestly  pleaded  for 
his  life  witb  fear  and  trembling  at  once  be- 
came a  man— a  man  ready  to  meet  death 
without  flinching.  It  was  almost  with  sad- 
ness that  those  intrusted  with  the  duty  tied 
his  hands  behind  him,  and  placed  the  fatal 
noose  about  his  neck. 

The  column  had  been  ordered  to  advance, 
..nd  willingly  the  troopers  moved  forward, 
nor  cared  to  look  upon  the  last  scene  in  the 
grim  drama.  The  last,  did  we  say  ?  Ah,  no! 
the  last  bloody  scene  in  that  fatal  drama 
was  not  to  be  enacted  for  two  years— lacking 
twenty-eight  days  1 

"Come — come,  my  men!"  exclaimed  the 
officer  impatiently,  as  he  cast  a  hasty  glance 


toward  the  now  rapidly  receding  cavalry. 
"I've  no  wish  to  hurry  this  young  fellow 
into  eternity ;  but  we  must  make  haste,  or 
we  shall  never  catch  up  with  our  com- 
mand." 

"  We're  all  ready,  lieutenant,"  said  one  of 
the  men. 

"Very  well."  Then  to  the  prisoner :  "Have 
you  anything  you  would  like  to  say  before 
we  swing  you  off?" 

"Nothing  but  this,"  responded  the  un- 
fortunate youth  :  "  Y^our  general  has  ordered 
you  to  commit  deliberate  murder— and  that's 
just  what  you  are  doing— nothing  more  or 
less.  It  must  be  plain  enough  to  you  all 
that  I  am  no  more  than  a  mere  boy,  with 
little  or  no  knowledge  of  military  law.    Do 


me  by  your  general,  had  I  known,  or  even 
for  a  moment  dreamed,  what  would  be  the 
consequences?  Yes,  I  tell  you,  this  is  a 
wicked,  a  cruel— even  auseless  murder.  Still 
I  do  not  blame  you.  But  you  may  tell  Gen- 
eral Stuart,  for  me,  that  he  surely  will 
have  cause  to  rue  this  day's  work  to  the  last 
hour  of  his  life— ay,  and  that  last  hour  will 
come  the  sooner  for  the  pitiless  course  he 
has  taken." 

Then,  after  a  moment  ot  silence: 

"  I— I  would  like  to  send  a  message  to  my 
mother— my  brother— my— no— no!  let  it 
pass.  I  have  kept  you  too  long  as  it  is.  I 
am  ready!  " 

"But,  my  poor  fellow,"  began  the  oflicer, 
in  a  compassionate  tone,  "any  message  you 
would  like  to  send " 

The  youth  only  shook  his  head. 

"Then  good-by  "—sorrowfully. 

"Good-by"— almost  cheerfully. 

"  Let  him  swing,  boys." 

The  order  was  obeyed,  and  in  less  than  two 
minutes  the  poor  boy's  soul  was  in  eter- 
nity. 

"Mount!"  ordered  the  officer,  when  he 
was  quite  satisfied  their  work  was  complete. 
"Forward!  Double  quick!"  And  away  they 
sped  along  the  road  their  companions  had 
passed  over. 

An  hour  passed,  and  not  a  living  soul  ap- 
peared to  look  upon  i^the  swinging  body  of 
the  murdered  boy. 

Some  minutes  more  elapsed,  and  then, 
suddenly,  a  single  individual  thrust  aside 
the  undergrowth  and  made  his  way  out  of 
the  neighboring  forest. 

For  some  moments  he  did  not  see  the 
ghastly  object  almost  close  to  him,  for  he 
was  looking  the  other  way;  but  presently 
he  turned,  and  then  the  swaying  body  caught 
his  eye. 

For  one  instant  he  gazed  upon  it,  and  then 
a  look  of  the  utmost  horror  came  into  his 
race. 

"My  God!"  he  gasped,  "it's  Elmer!  mv 
own  little  brother !  Now  what  fiend's  work 
is  this?" 


CHAPTER   IV. 

AN  AVENGER. 

It  was  Grit  Carroll,  the  Union  scout,  who 
stood  gazing  up  at  the  lifeless  body  swinging 
from  the  limb  of  the  pine  tree,  and  who  ut- 
tered the  words  at  the  close  of  the  preceding 
chapter. 

His  brother!    Yes,  it  was  too  true,   that 


idolized  brother  Elmer— little  Elmer,  he  had 
always  called  him. 

The  poor  boy's  war  history  had  been  brief. 

When  his  elder  brother — elder  by  more 
than  ten  years— was  about  to  leave  their 
home  on  the  banks  of  the  Rappahaunock,  to 
join  the  Union  army,  he  had  made  Elmer 
promise  not  to  take  any  part  in  the  great 
struggle  but  to  remain  quietly  at  home,  and 
do  all  in  his  power  to  aid  and  assist  their 
widowed  mother. 

Grit  had  no  fear  that  the  Confederate 
authorities  would  force  the  lad  into  their 
army,  for,  he  reasoned,  if  his  youth  does  not 
save  him,  his  mother's  widowhood  surely 
will. 

He  never  told  Elmer  that  he  was  going  to 
join  the  Northern  army,  for  being  a  dead- 
shot,  he  had  from  the  first  made  up  his  mind 
to  act  as  a  scout,  and  knowing  therefore, 
that  he  would  be  obliged  to  be  much  alone, 
and  in  his  own  country,  he  thought  it  best 
that  none  of  his  relatives  or  neighbors  should 
know  his  Intentions. 

Having  obtained  his  brother's  promise,  he 
went  away  feeling  that  all  would  go  on  well 
at  home. 

Grit  Carroll  had  not  taken  one  thing  into 
due  consideration,  the  infiuence  of  Elmer's 
companions,  boys  of  his  own  age. 

Not  long  after  Grit's  departure  a  regiment 


was  raised  in  Caroline  county,  one  company 
of  which  was  made  up  in  the  vicinity  of 
Elmer's  home.  Two-thirds  of  his  friends 
joined  it,  and  he  soon  received  many  press- 
ing invitations  to  do  likewise. 

For  a  long  time  he  resisted,  turning  a  deaf 
ear  to  all  i)leadings.  At  last,  however,  in  a 
fatal  moment  he  said  Yes,  and  became  a  sol- 
dier in  gray. 

He  went  through  a  single  campaign,  and 
then  with  some  others,  was  captured  by  a 
squadron  of  Union  cavalry. 

He  was  about  to  be  sent  North  as  a  pris-. 
oner  of  war,  when  the  scout  of  the  •otomac 
happened  to  enter  the  camp. 

Elmer  saw  him,  and  uttered  an  exclama- 
tion of  delight. 

"What!  you— and  in  that  dress?"  cried' 
Grit,  advancing  toward  his  brother. 

"  Yes,  dear  old  fellow,"  said  Elmer,  "  they 
made  me.  That  is,  you  see,  all  the  other 
boys  about  our  place  went  into  the  army, 
and  they  wouldn't  give  me  any  peace  until  I 
joined  them." 

"Hum,"  almost  growled  Grit,  "and  now 
you  see  what  it  has  brought  you  to.  You 
are  a  prisoner  of  war,  and  most  likely  will 
be  cooped  up  in  some  Northern  fortress  for 
the  next  three  years." 

"  Oh,  say.  Grit,  old  fellow,  you  cau  fix  all 
that.  Don't  let  them  take  me  away.  Just 
let  me  stay  here  with  you." 

"  But  you  couldn't  do  that,  you  know, 
without  joining  our  army,"  objected  Grit. 

"I  don't  care.  The  army  that's  good 
enough  for  you  is  surely  good  enough  for 
me,"  promptly  answered  his  brother. 

"  But  I  am  not  with  my  command  very 
often,"  said  the  elder. 

"No  matter.  I  should  see  you  oftener 
than  I  would  if  I  were  sent  North,  or  even 
went  back  to  my  old  comrades." 

"True,  Elmer,  and  I'll  see  what  our  com- 
manding ofBcer  has  to  say  about  the  mat- 
ter," and  as  he  turned  away,  he  muttered  to 
himself:  "  At  anyrate,  I  should  have  the 
child  more  under  my  own  eye,  and  I  think  1 
could  see  to  it  that  no  harm  comes  to  him." 

The  commanding  officer  said  : 

"  By  all  means,  let  him  join,"  and  he 
quickly  added,  "  I'd  like  to  enlist  the  whole 
Southern  army  in  the  same  way." 

"But  he's  very  young,  you  know,"  sug- 
gested Grit. 

"No  matter,"  replied  the  other;  "he  un- 
derstands his  business,  and  I'm  glad  enough 
to  get  new  recruits  ot  that  stamp  ou  any 
terms." 

Thus  it  was  that  Elmer  Carroll  had  be- 
come a  Union  soldier.  He  had  joined  the 
Northern  army  out  of  love  for  his  brother. 

Now,  here  was  the  end  of  it  all :  murder- 
ed—foully murdered  as  a  desei'ter ! 

"  A  mere  child— an  innocent,  unthinking 
youth,"  murmured  Grit.  "  What  dastardly 
cowards  to  perpetrate  such  a  shameful  act  I 
Oh !  that  I  only  knew  who  were  its  au- 
thors." 

"  Water !  comrade— bring  me  water!" 

Grit  turned. 

The  faint  cry  seemed  to  come  from  the 
undergrowtii,  not  a  dozen  paces  from  him. 

He  listened. 

"  In  Heaven's  name !  a  drink,  comrade. 
My  throat's  as  dry  as  a  limekiln." 

Ah!  he  saw  where  the  came  from  now, 
and  hastened  forward. 

He  parted  the  thick  underbrush,  and  just 
within  saw  a  Union  soldier,   stretched  at  his 


bow. 

He  took  off  his  canteen,  and  making  his 
way  to  his  side,  held  it  to  his  lips. 

The  wounded  trooper  drank  eagerly. 

"Ten  thousand  thanks,  comrade,"  he 
said,  when  he  had  finished  the  last  drop  in 
the  canteen.  "  I  feel  a  hundred  per  cent 
better.  Now  if  you  will  only  raise  me  a  lit- 
tle, and  help  me  to  get  my  back  against  that 
tree " 

"  Of  course,"  and  then,  as  he  assisted  him, 
"  you're  Newton,  of  Burnham's  cavalry, 
ain't  you?" 

"You  bet;  and  you're  Grit  Carroll,  the 
scout,  and  brother  of  the  poor  fellow  swing- 
ing yonder." 

"Yes,"  returned  Grit,  with  a  shudder. 
"  Did  you  see  the  cruel  work  done!" 

"Saw  it  all,"  said  Newton,  "and  I'll  tell 
you  all  about  it,  it  you  like."  ,  „    ^„ 

"  Wait^let  melook  atyour  wound  first. 

"  No,  no- 'taint  no  good.  If  they  hadn't 
shot  my  horse,  I  should  have  managed  to 
keep  my  seat,  and  so  got  away.  But  you 
see,  the  beast  fell  at  the  same  moment  that 
a  ball  struck  me,  and  so  there  was  nothing 
for  it  but  to  crawl  in  here,  unless  I  wanted 
to  get  inside  of  Castle  Thunder,  or  submit 
myself  to  the  embrace  of  Libby.    1   thought 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


3  3 


of  the  alternati 
coucludecl  to  it 
oue  dreamed  of 

'verytliiii^'  (liai 


for  just  one  moment,  and 
•1.  No  one  missed  me— no 
y  heins  here,  and  so  I  saw 
;ni~piii(l  at  my  leisure — 
\'ifz  tn  ciKi,  and  when  it 
li''  l:i-l  iiKiii  ride  away." 
iu?.t  let  me  look   at  youi 


saw  it  fi 
was  all  ov. 
"Newtn 
wound.    1 

gerous  now  ;  but  it  may  speedily  become 
by  neglect;  and,  at  anyrate,  the  llow 
blood  should  be  stopped." 

It  to  bother  you,  old  fellc 


don't 

s  what's  the  matter. 

Dtlier?"  said  Grit,  earnestly;  "you 
know  how  much  consequence  your 
'-  -ne  just  now— I  want  to  hare  you 


i  who 


1  that  ordered 


to  be  huiifi 

atonce— liul  I  \v;nit  iimrc  lli-m  (hat- I  ivunt 
you  to  iioiiit  iHit  I..  11,,.  ,.\(.rv  Tiiaii  wij..  Ijad 
any  hand  in  Ih.'  inaltiT.  FiL-^t,  \\\,-  i.ni"  whi. 
denounced  hiui  as  a  deserter,  it  you  can 
then  those  who  took  charjie  of  him  ami 
executed  the  commanding  offlcer's  orders  " 

'•  Hum  !  Well,  I  thiuk  myself  they  ought 
to  suffer  for  it,  and— yes,  I  will  do  all  I  can 
to  help  you.  Grit." 

"Thank  you,  ray  dear  fellow,  I  was  sure 
you  would,  and  now  let  me  open  your 
coat." 

Grit  examined  the  wound.  He  saw  that 
It  was  not  serious,  but  carefully  washed  and 
dressed  it,  and  then,  said  : 

"  I  am  going  to  leave  you  for  a  ht  tie  wljil,-, 
I  can't  let  poor  Elmer  swing  fium  tliat 
cursed    tree    one    mimii'iit    Ii.n.'ci     thin    is 


ooov  ui  JUS  I'lMitiM  ititii  ^\  lit  n  lie  li  id 
laid"it  on  .1  Ih  d  .ill.  .ncs.iud  liiK  (i  ^lass  hi 
went  to  a  11.  i^hliDMiin  slieain;  .ind,  lia\'iTig 
hlled  his  tanli_eii  with  watei,  letuin'ed  with 
It  to  Newton. 

Alter  this,  he  selected  a  secluded  spot, 
whei  e  he  was  not  likely  to  be  observed  by 
au>  one  passing  on   the  rood:  aud,  having 


"■  "  "  '""""  .i"i-i'-'i  -..i.i.-»li  it  by  his 
-ilH-r  hi-  iitiiiind  t..  th..  pliM  Mhcie  he 
M  l.tt  tl...  1h..1j  .ii„l,,,r-m_'  It  ten.leily 
lu  In.  aims,  uinic.l  it  Ui  it.  List  resting 
place. 

Ah!  how  gently  he  laid  it  in  its  last  nar- 
row home— how  affectionately  he  covered 
the  dear  face  and  beloved  form  with  green 
leaves  and  sweet-'imening  flowers;  then, 
with  «  hat  a  sit,'li  he  tliiew  in  the  earth,  and 
laisp.l  till   niiaui.l  th  it  shuwedbut  too  plain- 


forget  it.  I  suspected  who  it  was  from  the 
Hrst,  buti  wanted  to  make  no  mistake  in 
the  matter.  The  dirty  scoundrel  has  always 
hated  Elmer  from  as  long  ago  as  I  can  re- 
member—yes, and  me  too,  for  that  matter. 
Ah!  Loren  Langford,  look  out!  the  avenger 
is  on  your  track— the  avenger  who  will  rest 
neither  night  nor  day  until  he  sees  you 
hanging  where  your  poor  innocent  victim 
hung!" 

"Eight!  old  fellow! 
"  and  anything  I  can  . 

"  Thanks,  comrade,  and  as  I  have  already 
said,  I  shall  avail  myself  of  yonr  services 
whenever  it  is  possible  to  do  so.  Now,  if 
you  feel  able,  please  describe  all  the  others 
who  had  a  hand  in  this  cowardly  murder." 

(lilt  lould  riM'iiLiii/.i- but  two  from  his  des- 
11  ipli.ins.  'riir  liiutcnant  and  most  of  the 
men  he  could  not  place. 

At  length  he  said: 

"There  is  no  use  wasting  any  more  time 
now.  We  shall  visit  their  camp  together 
soon,  then  you  can  point  them  all  out  to  me. 
And  now  it  is  tinii-  we  were  leaving  this 
place.    Do  you  fi.'!  aid"  In  rule?" 

"Lord,  yes,  ol.l  f.ll.nv.  I'm  all  right,  only 
a  little  weak.     Hut  wIhm.  s  there  a  horse  for 


othe 


only   I  hope  we  shan't 
ay  on  our  way  back." 
I'our  arms— I  trust  you 


the  last  thing  befi 


liiit  all  about  that.  Too 
(irit,  old  boy,  I  thought 
jiece,  it  was  my  especial 
appose  some  oue  of  the 
ade  love  to  it." 
Which  one  of  those  dead 


VH  Vi>TER    V. 


'  I   mull,    throwing 

l.\  the  side  of  the 

'II  III       1  1.  II    me,  please,   just 

islhalft.ixe   the  order  which  cost 
11  other  his  life.' 
al     Stuart,"     answered    Newton, 


sclaimed    Grit ; 


you 


"Dead  certain,"  returned  the  other  con- 
Idently,  "  I  heard  hiin  called  by  that  name 
it  least  a  dozen  times  " 

"Describe  him,  jile  ise 

Xi  n  t.iii  at  oiLi  1    „i\       111        niniite— in- 


fUyc 


'       I     III  1st,   setting 

!•  1     .11.1 1  Ilea  thing  hard. 

M  iiai  t,  and  mark  me, 

11-  .uder  will  cost  him 

11  tli.it  denounced  poor 

his  name  wasn't  men- 


■  Wh  It  did  he  say?" 

■  ^  11.1  he  came  from  the  same  county,  and 

tliiiik  the  same  part  of  the  county  that 
.Imer  did.  Said  he  was  a  member  of  the 
ime  coni:iany  that  he  joined.  Knew  him 
'ell— couldn't  be  mistaken,  and  a  lot  more 
esides." 

"  Hum :  Can  you  describe  just  how  he 
)oks?" 

"Yes;  that's  an  easy  matter  enough.  He 
ras  a  heavy  built  man,  not  more  than  twen- 
r-two  or  twenty-three,  I  should  think, 
iiough  Had  light  hair,  and  red  eyes;  a 
pgular  brutal  face,  with  a  hungry— almost 
eudish  look  ahoutit.    He  was " 

••  That's  enough,"  interrupted   the  scout. 

I've  got  him  dead  to  rights,  and  don't  you 


"Mine  is  cone, 
theiie  woods,"  sai 

obliireil  to'ri.ledc 
"Tha  's  all   ric 

meet  any  of  the  e 
"  I  hope  not;  b 

were  able  to  save 
"  Here's  mv  sni 


the  world  of  that 
pet,  and  now  I  s 
Johnnie  rebs  has  n 

"I'll  take  a  look 
horses  yonder  was  you 

"The  roan. 

"Good!"  and  Grit  forced  his  way  through 
the  underbrush  into  the  road. 

Newton  ?oon  Iviid  an  i-xi'lamatinii  nf  sat- 
isfaction, and  ii.-;  IN      I. 1,1,  r,.i  r,  .;.    ...m- 

that  his  Irii-iiil        ■      n  ,    .       ,       ,  ,;.,  n,,.. 

forth  a  eaiiiin.'  i .  •    .    .    ,  :    ■   ,    -    i     ,  ;     ,,,„.  " 

The  scout  liasl.  ,..d  |,.  :.  -i,,,..  luin  l  In',  ii.s,.- 
ful  weapou,  and  then  started  oh  to  liud  iiis 
own  steed. 

He  was  not  long  absent,  and  when  he  re- 
turned, he  assisted  the  wounded  cavalry- 
man to  mount,  then  taking  his  own  place  ju 
the  saddle,  and  requesting  Newton  to  hold 
fast,  he  started  off  in  the  direction  of  the 


pulled  up  short,  and  before 
sk  a  single  question,  begun 
liece  of  woods. 

old  fellow— dismount  as 
!iMe,"  he  whispered,    "and 

in  that  clump  of  bushes." 

asked  his  astonished  com- 


When  he  had  come  within  a  few  yards 
Grit  "put  his  pistol  on  him,"  in  military 
parlance,  and  took  him  prisoner,  calling 
Newton  from  the  woods  to  take  charge  of 

The  captive  had  scarcely  been  conducted 
into  the  underwood  and  placed  beside  the 
other,  when  two  men  appeared,  coming 
from  the  same  direction,  and  the  audacious 
Grit  determined  to  capture  these  also. 

He  called  to  Newton  once  more;  but  that 
worthy  was  too  busy  rifling  the  unfortunate 
graycoats,  and  did  not  hear.  He  then  re- 
solved to  capture  the  two  new  cavalrymen 
by  himself. 

He  accordingly  advanced  toward  them, 
when  su.idciily  another  came  around  the 
coin. a-  ..I  III.,  w.i.i.ls  and  joined  them,  mak- 

Ur  still  .Itsi.nird  attacking  them,  when 
another  aini.an  il,  making  four ;  and  as  they 
now  approached  Grit  they  suddenly  drew 
their  revolvers,  and  leveling  them,  ordered 
him  to  surrender. 

He  was  within  h 
his  own  revolver 
coolly : 

"  \Vhat  do  you  mean  ?'' 

"  We  mean,"  said  the  men,"  that  you  area 
confounded  Yankee  spy,  and  you  are  our 
prisoner," 

"  r  am  no  spy,"  was  the  reply. 

"What  regiment  do  you  belong  to?" 

'.'n... — th  vrir-o-iT,;™  '» 


band. 


"  Iliu 


backing  into  i 

"Dismount, 
quickly  as  p. 
conceal  yours. 

"  What's  up 
rade. 

"You'll  see  in  a  moment,"  and  Newton, 
having  with  some  difficulty  slipped  to  the 
ground,  Grit  pushed  his  horse  forward  a  lit- 
tle way  and  waited. 

Presently,  a  Confederate  cavalryman  came 
along. 

"  Halt !"  exclaimed  Grit,  suddenly  showin" 
himself. 

The  Johnnie  came  to  a  dead  stand. 

"Come  in  here  out  of  the  cold,"  said  Grit, 
sternly.  "Noneof  that !"  he  quickly  added, 
in  a  warning  voice.  "  Undertake  to  touch 
your  pistols,  or  hesitate  for  an  instant  to 
obey  me  and  I  Are!" 

The  unfortunate  rebel  surrendered  at 
once. 

"  Now,  then,  Newton,  takeehargeot  him," 
called  Grit,  and  as  the  Federal  trooper  came 
up  and  took  the  prisoner's  weapons  from 
him,  he  continued: 

"But  just  give  me  that  gray  overcoat  he 
has  on,  and  let  me  swap  horses  with  him  ; 
for  I  think  I  can  do  a  little  business  right 
here,  there's  a  detachment  of  rebel  cavalry 
encamped  just  above  this  spot  T  see." 

Newton  handed  him  the  rebel  coat,  whic  h 
the  scout  put  on ;  after  which  he  mouLted 
the  other  horse,  and  taking  a  position  on  the 
road,  awaited  the  appearance  of  some  fur- 
ther prey. 

He  had  not  waited  long,  when  a  second 
stray  cavalryman  came  along,  and  sewing 
Grit  dressed  m  a  gray  overcoat  and  Confed- 
erate accoutremeuts  generally,  had  no  fear 
of  him. 

His  conflding  simplicity  was  his  ruin.  | 


Fiisl, 


amands  the  brigade?" 


"  Kmht  airaiii.     Where  is  it  stationed'?" 
"  Near  Old  Tavern  ;  but  a  squadron  is  with 
Stuart." 
"Yes.    Who  commands  the  flivision?" 
"  Look  here,"  said  Grit,  v.dio,  of  course,  was 
throughly  acquainted  with  his  role,  "  I  am 
(ired  of  your  asking  me  so  many  questions; 
but  I   will  answer  all  the  same.    The  — th 
Virginia  is   in    Frisbie's    lirigade,   Norton's 
division,  and  Stuart  commands  the  whole.  1 
belong  to  the  regiment,  and  am  no  spy." 
He's  all  right,  boys,"  said  oneof  themen; 


•let  I 


I  go. 


'  You  are  mistaken,"  said  Grit,  coolly. 

"  V.in  an^  a  Yankee  spy !"  cried  the  man. 
■And  how  do  I  know  you  are  not  spies 
:iud  scn-ita  from  the  Yankee  army?"  asked 
Grit;  "  you  have  ou  gray  coats,  to  be  sure, 
but  let  me  see  your  p.antaloons." 

"They  raised  their  coat-skirts  and  showed 
their  pantaloons,  which,  whatever  they 
were,  were  not  Federal  blue. 

"  Now  show  yours,"  they  said. 

Grit  had  foreseen  this,  and  fortunately  be- 
ing prepared,  readily  exhibited  his  own, 
which  happened  to  bo  those  of  a  Confeder- 
ate officer. 

"He's  one  of  our  officers,  boys,"  said  the 
former  spokesman. 

"Yes,  lam,"  said  Grit,  "and  I'll  report 
you  all  for  this  conduct." 

"  None  of  your  talk,"  said  the  incredulous 
cavalryman,  fiercely.  "  I  know  you  are  a 
spy,  and  you've  got  to  go  with  us,  and  that's 
the  end  of  it." 

"Very  well,"  returned  thr-  T^nion  scout; 
"the  picket  |i..-i  :-.  :ii-i  .I..VVI1  the  road.     I'll 

"All    riulii  :  I    ;,iv;    and    they 

ranged  theins.;\.-,  I  «..  .n,  .aeh  side,  with 
drawn  pistols,  ami  all  rorle  liack. 

Grit  now  plainly  saw  that  it  was  neck  or 
nothing. 

If  he  was  conducted  to  the  picket,  he 
knew  that  his  real  character  would  be  dis- 
covered, his  fate  be  a  stout  rope  and  a  short 
shrift,  and  that  his  body  would  soon  be 
dangling  from  a  tree,  as  a  warning  to  all 
spies. 

Accordingly,  he  watched  his  chance,  and, 
suddenly,  crossing  his  revolver  over  his 
breast,  shot  the  man  on  his  left  through  the 
back  ;  a  second  shot  wounded  a  horse  on  his 
right;  then,  all  four  shot  at  him  so  close 
that  their  pistols  nearly  touched  him. 

Strange  to  say,  not  a  ball  struck  him  ! 

He  then  turned  his  horseand  dashed  back, 
until  he  was  opposite  the  point  where  New- 
ton was  concealed,  when  he  wheeled  round, 
and  they  all  stopped  suddenly. 

Grit  CO  Illy  crossed  his  leg  over  the  pom- 
mel of  hill  saddle,  covered  them  with  his  re- 
volver, and  said : 

"Now,  come  on,  you  cowardly  rascals! 
Charge  m  '  if  you  dare !  I'll  answer  for  two 
of  you  the  first  pop." 

They  ret  iiained  consulting  hurriedly  with- 
in fifteen  laces  of  him  for  some  minutes, 
and  then  t  .irned  round  and  rode  back. 


ii-^ 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY 


They  had  not  goue  fifty  yards,  however, 
when  shame  seemed  to  overcome  them  ;  and, 
n-hirliug  round,  the  three  who  were  un- 
wounded  charged  him,  firing  with  their  pis- 
tols as  they  came  on. 

lirit  cliarged  forward  to  meet  them,  emp- 
tyiiiL^  liis  chajjibers  in  quicli  succession. 
"(iiif  ivu  dead,  the  other  two  turned  their 
horses  and  fled  down  the  road,  Grit  pursu- 
ing them  with  shouts,  and  firing  upon  them 
until  they  had  almost  reached  their  camp. 

Again  turning,  the  brave  scout's  first  care 
was  to  secure  the  dead  man's  horse. 

He  then  once  more  returned  to  the  point 
where   he   had    left    Newton    and  the  pris- 

•■  Come,  old  fellow,"  he  said,  "  there's  no 
time  to  swap  knives  now— up  with  one  of 
the  rebs  ou  my  horse,  and  put  the  other  on 
this  one;  then,  you  can  have  the  animal  we 
captured  first.  Be  quick  about  it,  or  we 
shall  have  a  whole  squadron  of  Confederate 
cavalry  down  upon  us." 

They  worked  fast,  and  were  all  speedily 
mounted. 

"Now,  then,"  said  Grit,  addressing  the 
prisuuers.  "l  want  no  funny  business.  If 
i-irl,.i  Ml  \m;!  fi'ilows  attempt  to  escape, 
l<  '       -  i:ilieruaclequicker  than  you 

i:ii;    ,  :    iMiisou.     Understand!" 

I  III   j    i-i  ;;i  ?  -  nmmated  that  they  did. 

■  All  11x1. 1,  iiieu.  Forward!"  and  away 
they  dashed  toward  the  Union  lines. 

They  had  not  gone  far  when  they  heard  a 
terrific  yell  liehind  them,  and.  looking  back, 
at  once  saw  that  they  were  being  hotly  pin-- 
suaI  by  at  least  fifty  of  the  enemy. 


CHAPTER  A") 


"Now,  then,  Newton,  we  are  in  for  it, 
sure,"  said  Grit,  casting  another  hurried 
glance  at  the  advancing  rebels,  "and  th.s 
horse  of  mine  is  carrying  double,  too." 

"  I  see,"  replied  Newton  briefly. 

"How  do  you  feel?"  asked  the  scout. 
■'  Does  your  wound  trouble  you  any  'i"' 

"  i_ih.  bother  the  wound,"  growled  the 
trooper.  "  Don't  think  of  that,  old  fellow. 
Let's  get  out  of  this  mess.  ' 

"  I  would  like  to,"  smiled  Grit. 

"  How  long  can  your  horse  keep  up  that 
gait  ?"  asked  Newton. 

"Soiiii-  tun.'  yet,"  was  the  reply,  "and  I 
lanry  till- ivbfls  won't  be  iu  a  hurry  to  fire 
upi'i'i  u- ?o  louir  as  they  risk  hitting  two  of 


•Will 


ing  it 


then,   that  we've 


got 


■  I'm  thinking  old  Sultan,  here,  would  be 
elad  to  dispense  with  the  blessing. 

The  pursuing  part}-  was  now  drawing 
nearer  and  nearer  every  moment;  but,  as 
Grit  had  foreseen,  did  not  fire. 

Suddenly,  wheeling  his  horse  about,  he 
sent  two  shots  at  thel'oremost  of  the  enemy. 

Down  went  the  first  man,  and  the  ne- 
reeled  in  his  saddle. 

"So  far,  so  good,"  he  muttered,  and  again 
he  sped  ou. 

Newton  had    charge   of    the    other   pris- 


carbine  to  his  shoulder  at  the  same  time, 
fired. 

Down  went  another  man,  and  the  onward 
dash  of  the  Confederates  was  momentarily 
cheeked. 

"Now,  grayback,"  said  Newton,  to  his 
charge,  "  we  must  show  them  our  heels  in 
dead  earnest,"  and  away  they  went,  like  the 
wind. 

Again  and  again  the  pursuers  came  within 
pistol-shot,  and  each  time  they  received  a 
dose  of  lead  from  Grit's  revolver  and  New- 
ton's carbine. 

At  length,  losing  all  ijatience,  they  return- 
ed the  fire. 

The  prisoner  behind  Grit  gave  a  yell  of  ag- 
ony, and  suddenly  unclasped  his  hands. 

He  could  not  fall,  for  he  was  fastened  se- 
curely to  the  back  of  the  saddle. 

Grit  turned  around  and  looked  into  his 
face. 

"  Where  did  the  bullet  strike  you  ?"  he 
asked. 

The  man  did  not  answer,  but  stared  at  him 
as  if  he  had  not  heard. 

The  scout  repeated  the  question. 

Thru  111.'  other's  lips  moved,  and  a  torrent 
of  Mm.  ul  .:u>ln'.l  from  his  mouth.  The  next 
iiistiuit  Ills .  y.'lids  dropped, and  hin  head  fell 

fell:iw!"  mut- 

.    jnd    he   unbucl 

that  held  him 

With  a  dull,  heavy  thud,  the  d.ad  man  fell 
to  the  ground,  and  the  horse  bcauded  for- 
ward as  if  relieved  of  a  burden. 


"  Now,  then  "cried  the  scout,  "for  one 
last  effort.  Forward  "and  away  they  rushed 
toward  the  Union  lines. 

The  pursuers,  seeing  there  was  little 
chance  either  of  overtaking  or  bringing  them 
down,  halted,  and  then,  turning,  rode  sul- 
lenly away. 

Having  disposed  of  his  i>risoner  and  cap- 
tured horses,  and,  what  was  of  much  more 
consequence  to  him,  found  a  competent  sur- 
geon to  look  after  Newton's  wound.  Grit  be- 
gan to  think  of  himself. 

He  was  taint  and  hungry,  and,  although 
he  hated  to  confess  it  even  to  himself,  dead 
tired. 

The  first  thing,  then,  was  to  find  food  ;  the 
next,  to  get  a  little  rest. 

Grit,  of  course,  was  at  no  loss  to  procure 
the  wherewithal  for  a  substantial  meal,  and, 
having  satisfied  his  appetite,  he  threw  him- 
self upon  the  ground,  in  the  shade  of  a 
spreading  tree,  tor  a  short  nap. 

He  was  careful  not  to  oversleep,  and,  two 
hours  later,  he  was  once  more  iu  the  saddle, 
riding  at  a  fuiious  rate  iu  the  direction  of 
Old  Church. 

Stuart,  having  left  the  fatal  spot  where 
young  Elmer  Carroll  yielded  up  his  innocent 
lite,  pressed  on  with  liis  column  at  a  rapid 
rate  iu  the  direction  of  the  Tottapotamoi,  a 
sluggish  stream,  dragiiing  its  nniildy  waters 
slowly  iH'tw.'.'U  nish-i'lad  banlis  lieneath 
droopiii;;  II' .- ;  aii'l  r.a.lif.l  ii  at  a  jioint 
where  it  :-  .■n.-^•■l  1-v  a  Miiall  niMii-  l.n.lge. 

The  "  li"l.- Ini.' .iltli.' slr.ani  h.'  Lmiui,  to 
his  great  sati>laiti.  n,  wascniii  .'ly  uiiilefeud- 
ed  by  works.  McClellan's  right  wing  was 
unprotected. 

Stuart  had  accomplished  the  great  object 
of  his  expedition,  and  felt  satisfied  that  he 
could  pi.ot  Jackson  over  the  same  ground. 

But,  for  the  present,  he  determined  to  go 
ou— as  Grit  Carroll,  the  scout,  had  said  he 
would. 

A  Union  picket  was  stationed  at  the  bridge 
— this  was  quickly  driven  in,  and  retired  at 
a  gallop  to  the  high  ground  beyond,  where 
Stuart's  advance  guard,  under  Colonel  W. 
H.  P.  Lee,  first  encountered  the  Union 
forces. 

ThcF.'il.'ial-iiiMol     r.'l 
thousan.l  in-ii     ,■    '..:■-' 


Captain  i;oyal 
Ther  were.li 


i;.'  over  a 
us    under 


battle  m  the 


fields  to  receive  the  rebel  attack. 

It  came  without  delay. 

Placiug  himself  at  the  head  of  his  com- 
mand. Colonel  Lee  swept  forward  at  the  jjas 
dc  charijc,  and,  with  shouts,  the  two  lines 
came  together. 

The  shock  was  heavy,  and  the  Union  troops 
stood  their  ground  nobly,  meeting  the  attack 
with  the  saber. 

Swords  clashed,  pistols  and  carbines  bang- 
ed, yells,  shouts  and  cheers  resounded ;  and 
then  the  Federal  line  was  seen  slowly  to  give 
way. 

Burnham  and  Royal  did  their  utmost  to 
hold  their  men  together,  and  keep  them  up 
to  the  work ;  but  the  enemy  had  the  advan- 
tage in  numbers,  and  the  impetus  of  the  at- 
tack, and  so,  at  length,  the  Federals  broke 
and  took  to  headlong  flight. 

For  some  time  they  were  pursued  with  ar- 


peared  from  their  faces  at  sight  of  a  specta- 
cle which  greeted  them. 

Captain  Lataue,  of  the  Essex  cavalry,  and 
probably  one  of  the  best  known  and  best  be- 
loved officers  of  the  Southern  army,  had 
been  mortally  wounded  in  the  charge,  and 
as  the  men  of  his  command  saw  him  lying 
bloody  before  them,  many  a  bearded  face 
was  wet  with  tears. 

The  scene  at  his  grave  afterward  became 
the  subject  of  a  great  historical  painting,  by 
Mr.  Washiugton,  called  "The  Burial  of  La- 
taue;" and  I  find  it  recorded  that,  iu  his 
general  order  after  the  expedition,  Stuart 
called  upon  his  command  to  take  for  their 
watchword  iu  the  future,  "  Avenge  La- 
fane  ! ' ' 

Captain  Royal,  of  the  Federal  forces,  had 
also  been  badly  wounded,  and  several  of 
his  men  killed. 

A  Dutch  cavalryman  had  fallen  from  his 
horse,  and  lay  writhing  with  a  bullet 
through  the  breast,  biting  and  tearing  up 
the  ground.  He  called  for  water,  and  a  ne- 
gro ran  to  a  house  near  by  to  bring  him 
some.  On  returning,  he  found  a  destitute 
rebel  trooper  robbing  the  dying  man  of  his 
spurs ! 

Surely,  war  is  a  hard  trade  1 

By  Stuart's  command,  Fitz  Lee  now 
pressed  on,  and  burst  like  a  whirlwind  into 
the  camp  near  Old  Church,  where  large 
supplies  of  boots,  pistols,  liquors,  and   other 


commodities  belonging  to  the  Federal  army 
were  found. 

These  were  speedily  appropriated  by  the 
men,  and  the  tents  were  set  ou  fire  amid 
loud  shouts. 

The  spectacle,  as  can  readily  be  under- 
stood, was  animated;  but  a  report  having 
got  abroad  among  the  marauders  that  one 
of  the  tents  contained  powder,  the  vicinity 
of  the  spot  was  evacuated  in  almost  less  than 
no  time. 

The  whole  rebel  command  was  now  at 
Old  Church,  where  Stuart  was  to  be  guided 
in  his  further  movements  l.v  circumstancw 

He  stood  alone,  with  liis  head  bent  for- 
ward; he  was  evidently  deeply  lellecting. 

In  a  moment  he  raised  his  h'ea.l,  and  tiirn- 
ing  to  one  of  his  aides-de-camp,  said  ; 

"Tell  Fitz  Lee  to  come  along— I  am  going 
to  move  on  with  my  column." 

These  words  terminated  all  doubt,  and 
those  who  heard  him  understood  in  an  in- 
stant that  the  general  had  decided  on  the 
bold  and  hazardous  plan  of  passing  entirely 
round  McClellan's  army. 

"I  think  the  quicker  we  move  now,  the 
better,"  said  one  of  his  officers  w-ith  a  laugh. 

"Right!  "  replied  Stuart,  gravely;  "tell 
the  column  to  move  on  at  a  brisk  trot." 

So,  at  a  rapid  jjace  the  column  moved. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  SCOUT  SHOWS  HIS  GUIT. 

Stuart's  command  then  had  reached  Old 
Church.  It  had  captured  and  destroyed  all 
the  stores  tlieie,  and  then  had  started  on  to- 
wai.l  (lie  I'hi'  Icahorainy,  intending  to  strike 
it  at  a  |H, hit  1"  low  Long  Bridge,  and  so  re- 
enlii  ilio  I 'oiili  iterate  lines  by  way  of 
Charle.^  City. 

Grit  Carroll,  who  seldom  failed  In  any  un- 
dertaking, had  not  come  up  with  them. ; 

What  was  the  reason  of  this 'i* 

It  was  a  good  and  sufficient  one. 

Grit  bad  ridden  on  for  more  than  an  hour, 
when,  on  suddenly  turning  a  bend  in  the 
road,  he  discovered  two  cavalrymen  just 
ahead  of  him,  and  the  next  moment  saw 
that  they  were  Union  boys. 

He  soon  overtook  them,  and  found  that 
they  were  out  ou  a  private  foraging  expedi- 
Uon. 

He  did  not  volunteer  to  make  known  his 
own  business,  but  agreed  to  keep  them 
company  until  they  should  reach  the  ford 
of  a  broad  stream  at  no  very  great  distance 
ahead. 

At  length  the  river  came  in  view. 

Just  before  reaching  the  stream  there  were 
two  gates,  withiu  a  short  distance  of  each 
other,  which  had  to  be  passed.  There  was  a 
feuce  on  the  right  side  of  the  road,  and  an- 
other gate  in  that,  opening  into  a  field. 
On  the  left  there  was  no  fence— simply  an 
open  field  and  a  high  hill. 

Grit  and  his  companions,  to  save  time, 
had  made  a  short  cut,  and  were  now  coming 
across  the  fields  to  the  left  at  a  brisk  trot. 

At  the  very  moment  they  came  in  sight  of 
the  first  gate  they  saw  a  rebel  officer  and 
three  men  riding  through.  They  also  saw, 
at  a  short  distance  in  the  rear,  several  more 


one  of  Grit's  companions. 

"  Fight,"  responded  Grit,  setting.his  teeth 
tight  together. 

"All  right!"  exclaimed  the  other  two  in  a 
breath. 

"Then  close  up  to  receive  their  charge," 
warned  the  scout. 

The  rebels,  |having  passed  the  gate,  and 
been  joined  by  their  comrades,  pushed  on 
toward  the  three  Union  men,  who,  instead 
of  running,  as  the  rebels  expected  they 
would,  drew  up  in  line  to  receive  them. 

"Charge!"  cried  the  rebel  officer;  and  at 
them  they  went. 

Grit  and  his  friends  .held  their  fire  until 
the  rebels  were  within  five  yards  of  them, 
when  crack— crack — crack!  went  their  re- 
volvers, and  one  of  the  enemy  bit  the  dust. 


ing  them  to  surrender. 

For  a  time  they  refused,  ami  fought  des- 
perately;  but  the  odds  beings. .much  against 
them.  Grit  s  companions  at  last  called  out 
that  they  would  surrender. 

The  otecer  now  supposed  the  light  was 
over,  when  suddenly  Grit  thrust  his  pistol 
right  in  his  face  and  fired— so  close,  indeed, 
that  the  powder  burned  his  ear. 

How  the  man  escaped  with  his  life  is  a 
wonder. 

As  he  fired,  the  scout  dashed  away,  and 
two  of  the  rebels  pushed  on  after  him  to  cut 
him  off  from  the  gate. 

The  officer  was  terribly  enraged,  as  may 


THE  W  AR  LIBRARY. 


y^y 


readily  be  supposed,  aud  rode  at  him  full 
speed. 

Grit  fought  desperately,  killing  one  man 
and  wounding  another.  Then  three  more 
came  up. 

Seeing  himself  now  completely  hemmed 
in,  the  scout  lowered  his  sabre,  which  he 
had  drawn,  and  called  out  that  he  would 
surrender. 
'  The  ofhcer,  with  flashing  eyes,  rode  up  to 
him,  aud  shook  his  flat  at  him,  gritting  his 
teeth. 

"You  scoundrel!"  he  exclaimed.  "You 
.black-hearted  villain!  to  (ire  on  me  after 
surrendering !  I  am  almost  tempted  to  blow 
your  brains  out  with  my  pistol!" 

"Not  so  fast!"  said  Grit,  coolly,  /hadn't 
surrendered  before,  I  want  you  to  under- 
stand!" 

"You  lie!"  cried  the  officer,  raising  his 
pistol. 

Grit  was  too  quick  for  him ;  his  was  al- 
ready raised. 

Crack !— and  down  went  the  officer  like  a 
sack  of  meal. 

"Curse  you!"  exclaimed  a  sergeant,  dash- 
ing forward,  while  all  the  others,  excepting 
the  one  in  charge  of  the  two  prisoners,  joined 
him.  "Curse  you!— take  that!"  and  he 
fired  a  shot  from  his  pistol. 

It  missed ;  and  the  next  moment  Grit's 
saber  descended  and  cleft  his  head  open. 
Then,  quickly  pushing  forward  agamst  an- 
other, he  knocked  him  from  his  horse. 

Instead  of  making  off,  as  he  easily  might, 
he  next  turned  his  attention  to  rescuing  the 
two  prisoners;  and,  dashing  forward,  made 
a  stroke  at  the  trooper  in  charge. 

It  missed  him,  but  wounded  the  horse, 
which,  with  a  loud  snort,  bounded  off,  carry- 
ing his  unwilling  rider  with  him. 

"Now,  then!— quick!"  exclaimed  Grit. 
'  We  can'tgo  through  the  gates;  let  us  wheel 
around,  and  make  for  the  upper  ford." 

"But  my  arms!"  said  one  of  the  men. 
"They've  taken  my  saber  and  pistols." 

"You'll  have  to  let  them  go,"  rejoined 
Grit,  startmg  off, 

"No!— by  a  thundering  sight,  I  won't!" 
and  the  daring  fellow  actually  sprung  from 
his  horse,  snatched  up  a  saber  and  revolver, 
and  regained  his  seat  before  the  rebels  could 
oppose  him.  Then,  with  a  parting  shot,  he 
galloped  off  to  rejoin  his  companions. 

"  Well,  that  was  a  mighty  close  share,"  he 
laughed  when  he  had  overtaken  them.  Then, 
addressing  Grit : 

"By  Jove!  comrade,  you're  a  regular 
trump.  If  It  hadn't  been  for  your  genuine 
Yankee   pluck    we'd   have   beeu    in    limbo 

"  Perhaps,"  rejoined  Grit,  calmly;  "but  I 
don  t  happen  to  be  a  Yankee,  all  the  same." 
"Not  a  Yankee!     What  the  deuce  are  you 
thenV" 

"A  Southerner— a  native-born  Virginian ; 
and,  for  that  matter,  my  home  is  notso  very 
many  miles  distant— over  yonder;"— point- 
mg  in  the  direction  of  the  Rappahannock. 

'Jehosophat!  that  gets  me.  1  didn't  know 
there  was  a  Southerner  of  your  regular  out 
and  out  bluestripe  in  the  Union  army." 

';  Then  you  have  much  to  learn,"  said 
Grit,  "for  the  fact  is,  there  are  many  of  us— 
yes,  a  great  many— and  the  Union  is  just  as 
dear  to  us  as  to  you.  Look  at  General 
Thomas,  he  is  a  native  Virginian ;  then  there 
IS  Anderson,  and  a  host  of  others  I  could 
name,  I  tell  you,  comrade,  the  South  is  by 
no  means  a  unit  in  this  unholy  struggle." 

"I'm  satisfled  of  that  now.  But  say,  com- 
rade, how  far  have  we  got  to  go  to  find  that 
other  ford  ?  The  trouble  is,  we  can't  be  too 
long  away  from  camp— eh,  Charley  ?" 

"1  supposenot,"  answered  Charley ;  "but 
for  all  that,  I  don't  propose  to  leave  our  new 
friend  here  until  we've  seen  him  safely  over 
the  river." 

"  Don't  put  yourselves  out  on  my  ac- 
count," said  Grit,  "and  yet,  I'd  like  your 
company  for  a  much  longer  distance  than 
that.  Having  seen  what  you're  made  of,  I'd 
like  to  have  you  take  part  in  a  little  expedi- 
tion I'm  engaged  upon,  and  if  you'll  consent 
to  go  with  me,  I'll  agree  to  make  it  all  right 
with  your  commanding  ofBcer." 

•;Cau    you    do    that?"     asked     Charley, 
quickly. 
"I  think  so." 

"It's  rather  funny,"  laughed  Charley; 
"but  we've  beeu  together  some  time  now, 
and  yet  I  don't  know  what  to  call  you." 

"My  name  is  Clinton  Carroll,"  said  the 
scout,  quietly;  "but  I'm  generally  called 
Grit  Carroll,  the  scout  of  the  Potomac." 

"  Lord !  old  fellow,  we're  heard  of  you  a 

thousand  times.    We'll  go  with  you,  sure- 

won't  we,  Tom?"  j      .  . 

"  You  just  bet,"  was  the  hearty  reply. 

Im    glad     o   hear   it,"  exclaimed  Grit, 


warmly,  "  And  so  your  name  is  Charley- 
Charley  what?" 

"Charley  Clayton,  and  this  is  my  very 
particular  friend,  Tom  Merrett,  a  rightroyal 
good  fellow,  and  true  as  steel." 

"  I  can  well  believe  it.  Now  let  us  hurry 
on." 

They  put  their  horses  to  a  trot,  and  in  due 
time,  having  reached  the  ford,  crossed  it 
without  difficulty,  and  then  took  the  most 
direct  road  leading  to  Old  Church,  which, 
on  account  of  the  wide  detour  they  had  been 
obliged  to  make,  was  still  many  miles  dis- 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

JEFFERSON     WHITE    APPEARS   ON   THE   SCENE. 

For  several  hours  the  three  horsemen  kept 
on  at  the  same  steady  trot,  aud  then  they 
stopped  by  the  side  of  a  beautiful  stream  to 
rest  and  refresh  themselves. 

Presently  a  confused  sound  reached  their 
ears,  which  quickly  brought  Grit  to  his  feet. 

"We've  got  neighbors,"  hesaid,  "  Charley, 
you  and  Tom  lead  the  horses  a  little  deeper 
into  the  underwood,  while  I  go  forward  and 
reconnoiter." 

They  hastened  to  comply,  while  the  scout 
quickly  disappeared  in  the  direction  from 
whence  the  sound  had  come. 

He  was  absent  for  some  time.  At  last  his 
companions  heard  approaching  footsteps, 
and  on  looking  up,  beheld  Grit  coming  to- 
ward them  leading  a  young  darky  by  the 

"You  see,  I  thought  it  would  be  as  well  for 
us  all  to  take  part  lu  the  examination,"  he 
said,  quietly. 

"  Where  did  you  manage  to  pick  up  that 
piece  of  ebony?"  asked  Tom,  curiously. 

"Just  beyond  the  edge  of  the  woods,  off  in 
that  direction,"  responded  Grit.  "He  be- 
longs to  a  mansion-house,  which  is  just  vis- 
ible from  there,  and  where  I  more  than  sus- 
pect there's  a  body  of  rebel  calvary  at 
present." 

"How's  that,  Ebony?"  demanded  Tom. 
Dat  ain't  my  name,  sah,"  responded  the 
little  darky  with  much  dignity. 

"What  is  your  name,  then?"  asked 
Charley. 

"Julius  Caisar  Jefferson  Hannibal  Setback 
White,  an'  dey  calls  me  Jeff  fur  short." 

"Lord,  what  a  name!  Well,  we'll  call 
you  Jeff  for  short,  too.  Now  then,  Jeff,  how 
many  soldiers  are  there  up  at  the  house?" 

"Reckon  dar's  'bout  fifty  or  twenty,  sah." 

"  Fifty  or  twenty  ?  That's  definite.  Can't 
you  hit  any  nearer  than  that?" 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  said  Grit,  "  let  me  put 
a  question  or  two;  where  are  the  horses, 
Jeff'" 

"Dey's  tied  to  de  picket  fence,  sah." 

"How  many  men  stay  with  the  horses ?" 

The  boy  considered  for  a  moment,  then  he 
said . 

"Four,  sah." 

"Wait!"  put  in  Charley,  suddenly. 


Don't  fur  sartin  shuah,  sah." 

"All  right,  my  boy,"  said  Grit,  with  great 
satisfaction;  "and  now,  when  Lieutenant 
Dunbar  and  his  men  have  gone,  will  you 
I  come  here  aud  let  us  know  ?" 

"Yes,  sah." 

"Do  you  see  that?"  and  the  scout  held  up 
a  silver  piece.  '^ 

Again  the  boy's  eyes  rolled  in  his  head,  and_ 
this  time  until  nothing  but  the  whites  off 
them  could  be  seen.  f 

"  Yes,  mas'r,  I  sees  dat,"  he  affirmed. 

How  m  the  world  he  managed  to  do  it 
under  the  circumstances  is  a  wonder. 

"All  right,"  said  Grit ;  "  if  you  keep  quiet, 

go,    and 
yours." 

"  I'll  do  it,  sah— I'll  do  it— shuah." 

"Then  off  with  you!"    and  the  boy 
gone  m  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 

"Can     we     trust    him?"      ai 
quickly. 

"I  think  we  can,"  answered  the  scout; 

and  yet,  I  am  not  going  to  do  so  implicit- 
ly;  I  am  going  up  to  the  house  myself,  and 
that,  too,  right  away." 

"  Cau  you  do  so  in  safety  ?"  asked  Charley, 
an.xiously. 

"Of  course,"  was  the  reply;  "watching 
the  movements  of  the  enemy  is  a  part  of  my 
business,  you  know;"  and  Grit  once  more 
disappeared  in  the  direction  of  the  house. 

This  time  he  was  gone  much  longer,  and 
when  he  returned,  he  reported  that  the  in- 
formation they  had  obtained  through  Jeff' 
was  correct. 

He  had  counted  thirty  cavalry  horses, 
and  had  seen  Lieutenant  Fenton  Dunbar  at 
one  of  the  windows  of  the  house.  Jeff  was 
true  to  them,  he  said,  and  had  not  given  the 
slightest  hint  of  their  being  in  the  neighbor- 


Tom, 


'  any  signs  of  going?"  asked 


one  more,"  prompt- 
and  now,  where  are 


^     -  .,     .,.     How 

many  IS  four? 

"  As  many  as  yous  i 
ly  answered  Jeff. 

"Good!"  said  Grit 
the  rest  of  the  men?' 

"Some  ob  'em's  in  de  house— some's  on  de 
piazza,  an'  some's  lyin'  under  de  trees  on  de 
ground." 

"How  many  are  in  the  house?" 

Jeff  again  considered. 

"Dar's  Lieutenant  Dunbar,"  he  said,  at 
length,  "dat's  one." 

"What!  Fenton  Dunbar  of  Latane's  cav- 
alry?" demanded  the  scout. 

"Dat's  him,  sah." 

"Hum!    Well,  who  else?" 

"  Den  dar's  anoder  officer,  an'  two  mo'  be- 
sides." 

"  Good !  that  makes  eight  so  far.  Now,  on 
the  piazza?" 

"  Dar's  jist  twice  as  many  dar." 

"Sixteen.    Now,  under  the  trees?" 

"  Dar's  mo' dar  dan  on  de  piazza." 

"  How  many  more?" 

"  Don't  know— 'free,  four." 

"About   thirty  in    all,"  muttered    Grit. 

We  can  t  go  on  without  making  another 
detour,  and  even  then  we  run  the  risk  of 
their  coming  down  upon  us  whenever  we 
strike  the  road.    We'd  better  rest  where  we 

until  night,"  objected 

"  Nevertheless,  we  had   better  wait,"  said 

"  This  darky— can  we  trust  him  ?" 
"  I  think  so ;  but  let's  see.    Jeff,  when  you 
get  back  to  the  house  wha-t  are  you  going  to 
tell  them  there?"  j       e       b 

The   negro   rolled    his    eyes    about    fear- 


'  Do  they  she 
Charley. 

"  No ;  and  I  am  thinking  that  as  soon  as  it 
is  dark,  we  can  safely  push  on  by  avoiding 
the  road  past  the  house." 

"Then  let  us  do  so,  by  all  means"  ex- 
claimed Tom.  ' 

"We  will;  but  I  must  manage  to  see  Jeff 
first  and  give  him  his  silver  piece,  or  at  some 
other  time  he  might  be  tempted  to  do  us  or 
some  of  our  comrades  an  ill  turn." 

He  hardly  ceased  speaking  when  the  little 
darky  presented  himself,  and  what  was  of 
quite  as  much  importance,  he  had  not  come 
empty  handed. 

From  a  clean  towel  that  had  beeji  careful- 
ly wrapped  around  it,  he  produced  a  nicely 
cooked  chicken,  and  from  a  basket,  he 
brought  forth  other  and  innumera-b'le 
dainties. 

"Where'd  all  these  good  things  come 
from,  Jeff?"  demanded  Grit,  with  a  show  of 
sternness. 

"Mammy  sent  'em.  I  tole  her  dat  'free  ob 
Mas'r  Linkum's  sogers  am  hid  down  hyer, 
an'  she  sent  all  dese  yer  wid  her  lub." 

"Bless  the  dear  old  gal!"  and  Charley 
Clayton  at  once  produced  a  silver  dollar, 
which  he  earnestly  entreated  Jeff'  to  give 
to  his  mother  with  his  undying  affec- 
tion. 

Tom  also  sent  her  a  substantial  gift,  and 
Grit  gave  the  boy  the  promised  silver 
piece. 

"  Have    you    found    out   anything   more 
about  when  the  rebel  trooners  are  going?" 
asked  the  scout. 
"  Yes,  sah ;  dey's  gwine  in  de  night." 
"  Ah !  that  will  do.    Boys,  we  will  have  to 
be  on  our  guard." 

Jeff  remained  with  them  a  long  time,  m 
fact,  until  he  had  seen  the  last  morsel  of  the 
chicken  disappear,  aud  until  ail  the  other 
dainties  had  vanished  forever.  Then,  con- 
fidentially informing  them  that  he  'spected 
mammy'd  want  him,  he  departed. 

"That  was  a  regular  God-send,"  sighed 
Tom,  as  he  threw  the  last  chicken  bone  upon 
the  little  heap  they  had  made.  "  I  wish  we 
could  come  across  a  Jeff  like  this  one  every 
day." 

"  That  would  be  too  good— we  should 
soon  become  fastidious,"  laughed  Charley. 

"Right,"  said  the  scout;  "and  now,  let's 
get  a  wink  of  sleep,  so  that  we  may  be  off 
the  moment  it's  dark  enough  to  move  in 
safety,"  and  they  stretched  themselves  on 
the  ground,  and  Tom  and  Charley  knew  no 
more  until  they  were  gently  roused  by  Grit, 
some  hours  later. 

"  Come,  it's  time  we  were  oft',"  he  said,  in 
alow  tone.  "I've  found  a  path  that  will 
lead  us  by  the  house,  without  taking  us  too 
near  it." 


8 


J-J/ 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


Without  further  delay  they  sprung  to 
saddle. 

For  some  time  they  rode  ou  iu  silence.  At 
length  Tom  said : 

••Do  you  know  this  Lieutenant  Dunbar, 


••Yes,"  responded  the  seout,  slowly, 
linew  him  years  ago;  but  I   hardly  think  li 
would   remember  me  now.     Hi'    "iis  abou 
the  age   of— ot  Elmer— my   SjrMiiu-i-.     1  mus 
be  more  than  teu  years  his  senior.  ' 
••  What  kind  ot  a  fellow  is  he  r  ' 
'•A   iiolile    fellow— a    perfect    gentleman 
aud,  yes,  as  handsome  as  a  pieture.     That's 
strange  comparison   to   make  of  a  man,  Ini 
nevertheless,    it's    true.       No    woman    eve 
possessed  a   more  strikingly    handsome  lae 


thoughtlully.  ^       .   ^^ 

••la  like  to  have  you— but  not  to-night. 

When  he  has  thirty  (Jonfederate  troopers  at 

his  back." 
••  Right— it  wouldn't   be    best,   and,  now, 

let's  get  ou  a  little  faster." 
They  continued   to   ride   on  at  a  pretty 

rapid    pace    until    the  break  of  day,  when 

they   once  more  stopped  for  a  little   rest. 

Charley  now  noticed  that  the  scout  seemed 

relieved  of  all  anxiety. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TIM    O'COXXELL   ,IND   HIS   SONG. 

The  morning  was  bright  and  beautiful; 
thesuu  had  just  risen,  and  the  earth,  re- 
freshed l>y  the  heavy  dew  of  the  night,  was 
lireakiug  forth  with  all    its  luxuriant  fra- 

i'he  liver,  which  flowed  beside  the  resting 


;aU  uees  spread  their  shadows  about 
,,  and  the  sweet  singing  birds  hopped 
brauch  to  branch,  awaking  the  echoes 


ud    now  the  coun- 


;,ud 


the  lilackeued  ruins  of  a  liaru  or  dwelling. 

As  they  left  the  road,  followed  by  Stuart's 
column,  aud  kept  along  the  river's  bank,  the 
track  of  the  euemy  became  gradually  less 
perceptible,  and  the  country,  uninjured  by 


ed  climate.  . 

The  tall  corn   waving  its   yell^ 

fleeted   like  a  sea  the   clouds  that    vni 

slowly  above  it.  The  wild  Uowers  and  U;il- 
inia  grew  thickly  arouud,  ami  tin-  r;,iilr 
stood  basking  in  the  clear  streams,  while 
some  listless  darky  lounged  upon  the  bank 
beside  them. 

Strange  as  all  these  evidences  of  peace  and 
tranquility   were,  so  *"   *''"  •■ °  "* 


gold. 


the  camps  of 


ot  a  de 


my  I 


hands,   and    words    of    commendation    and 
praise. 

Tom  and  Charley  turned  inquiring  glances 
on  Rrit,  who.  as  whenever  anything  occur- 
red tir.it  111  did  not  thoroughly  understand, 
at  (.iiri- starti-d   to  his  feet,  and  became  all 

••  liiMiiaiu  Ill-re  until  I  return,"  he  present- 
ly said,  aud  then  cautiously  made  his  way 
down  the  bank  of  the  little  stream,  iu  the 
direction  from  whence  the  sound  had  come 


deiitly  wouiuleii. 

They  were  seated  or  recliiihig  aljout  a  fire, 
and  were  busy  eating,  while  one  ot  their 
number  was  entertaining  them  with  the 
narration  ot  some  adventure  of  love  or  war. 

At  first,  the  scout  could  not  make  out 
through  iIh'  inlhiL'i',  whether  they  were  blue 
or  gray  Iml  Ih'mms  iint  left  long  in  '      '■ 

••Sure,  thi 
silf  that's  kr 
the  voice. 

"  Right  where,  Tim  ?"  coolly  asked  the 
lieutenant. 

"  In  phat  I  war  sayin',  sure." 

"  And  what  were  you  saying?" 

"Oh,  bother!  But,  sure,  that  wheriver 
you  go,  the  women,  God  blessthim,  have  a 
way  av   s;it  -  — 


1,1  ,M.  ii.-  : Ill    them       Tlirough  the   thick 

^iKid.^.'iui' I asioual  glimpses  of  the  blue 

sky  ciiuld  be  seen  and  the  glittering  rays  of 
the  sun  as  they  streaked  the  river  with 
gold. 

Presently,  while  they  were  eating  tlieir 
noonday  meal,  the  sound  of  laughter  came 
to  their  ears,  followed  by   the  clapping  of 


Upon  me  sowl 

"Liki-  I    .-       I  i ill  y"  laughed  the  lieu- 

tenant. Ill  :  [I  lis  a  strange  compli- 
ment villi  \  ■  -.  !  '  1.  li  III  pay  them." 

".\y,  |i-i  Ii.iIm/ ilic  iiigs,  divil  a  less.  May- 
be vi'iiivii  luurd  pliat  happened  to  ireself 
uii'iil  Killaliii- wanst?" 

■■  Look  nut  for  the  meat  there,  Tim.  No,  I 
never  did.     Well,  eo  on." 

"I  war  comin'  along  one  niorriiir.  ji^t  as 
day  war  beginnin'  to  break,  whin  I  si-i-s  a 
slip  av  a  pig  throttin'  beton-iiie.  widunlinily 
near  him;  but  as  ther  road  war  limi-ly.  an' 
meself  rather  down    in    lu-art,    I    tlmimlit. 


me.  I  turned  round,  an',  by  the  blissed 
loight,  it  war  Sir  Godfrey  himself  war  on 

•'  Sir  Godfrey  ?  And  who  was  Sir  Godfrey, 
Tim?" 

"Sure,  thin.  Sir  Godfrey  Clanricard — him 
that  owned  morn  half  the  country." 

'•Ah!  I  see;  and  probably  he  owned  the 
pizas  well?" 

•Yes;  bad  luck  to  his  hooknose.  Phat 
•ari-vedoiu'  there,  me  foine  fellow?'  says 
hi-  ■  Phat'a  that  ye  have  dhraggin'  there 
behind  ye?' 

"  '  A  boneeu,  sor,'  says  I,  '  Isn't  he  a  foine 
crayture?— av  he  wasn't  su  throublesome.' 

" '  Throublesome— throublesome— phat  do 
ye  mane?' 

"'.Tiist  so,'  savs  I,  'Isn't  he  parsecutin' 
the  liiifr  mil  a\  me  the  whole  mornin',  fol- 
l,,nin'  nil'  ai  I'lii  iMiywhere  I  go?  Con- 
trai\  lia-i.--  !  la  \  al^^  avs  war.' 

■■  ■'!  ;i  l\  i-i  N  •'  I  I  iliiv  an'  part  company. 
my  liaiiil,  imi  w  i  I  li-iinidin','  says  he;  '  or 
mavlia  ir-  111'-  -auii'  iiiil  viiiril  be  comin'  to, 
aii-'imt  inn---  lni-t  i-illiii-:  ail-  faix,  I  tuk  his 
aihiiii-i-.  an'  \  .■  si  i-,  li  1 1-1  iiiant,  darlint,  it's 
list  as  I  warVavin',  tlii-v'ii-  loike  the  wom- 
1-11.  till-  li-a-l  thing  iu  loi'fe  is  enough  to  bring 
thi-in  at tlii-i-   us,   av  ye  only  put  the  eome- 

Thi-  rnai-  nf  laughter  that  greeted  this  de- 
iioueuii-iit  had  not  subsided  when  Grit  sud- 
denly stoi'il  aiming  them. 

••(ii-it  (  ail  III! !'  i-xclaimed  Lieutenant 
Fain-hilil,  in  a  well  pleased  tone,  "where  in 
thewiiild  iliil  vim  ilnip  down  from  ?" 

Till-  M mil  sili-iitly  pninti-il  tn  the  elevation 

■■  \n'  Mill-,  1-  thri-i-  aiiv  more  av  ye  up 
I  hell-,  iii-u  ,  .Mi^tlll-l  1,1  i|i  -  '  ili-manded  Tim. 
■■  Bei-;iii>i- ii\  ilii-ii-i-^,  bi-plazed  to  let  thim 
comeiliiHii  1.1  wanst,  an'  not  be  froightenin' 
the  loili- nut  ii\    a  man  by  comin'   amongst 

Again  a  mai  .-1  i:iii-_'liler  went  up. 

"Will  ip  ,.  .  Ill  iiti-nant,"  said  Grit, 
assoiin:  'I'  iki-   liiinselt   heard,  "  I 

have!"  I  ,     I        I-  aliiivi-lliere,  whom,  if 

itispt-i.  ''■■:  .:-!'  aiili-  111  tills  good  com- 
pany    1    -li'iil     !     -'    I"    introduce    among 


"By  all  means,"  exclaimed  Fairchild, 
heartily.     "  Mounted,  I  suppose  ?•' 

"Yiiiill  find  •!  --■^■"I'l  sheltered  spot  for  your 
cattli-  --.  I  iir;..  aUiiiL'  with  our  horses," 
ami  III  III.  It- i  a  secluded  nook  in 
au  al.    -;  .     ..    Ill-  >lr.-ani. 

Tij.-  -i.iii  1li-i.  iH-.l  tnri-turn  to  his  com- 
paniiuis,  and  having  reported  that  the  party 
below  was  a  small  detachmeut  of  his  own 
command,  and  that  they  would  be  made 
heartily  welcome,  the  three,  by  following  a 
circuitous  path,  at  length  reached  the  shel-, 
teied  nook,  aud  having  secured  their  horses 
with  those  already  there,  they  joined  the 
troopers  about  the  fire. 

•'Lieutenant  and  comrades,"  said  Grit, 
"permit  me  to  make  you  acquainted  with 
two  brave  men— Charley  Clayton  and  Tom 
Merrett.  I  have  seen  what  kind  of  stuff 
the 
hoih 

"That  indorsement  is  quite  sufficient," 
said  Lieutenant  Fairehild.  "  Comrades,  you 
are  welcome." 

"Welcome!  welcome!"  cried  all  the  oth- 
ers, even  the  wounded  man,  whom  Gritnow, 
for  the  first  time,  observed  was  an  officer. 

Fairehild  noticed  his  inquiring  glance,  and 
at  once  said : 

"  This  is  Captain  Ingold ;  you  know  him, 
I  think." 

"  Captain  Ingold !  yes,  I  have  that  honor, 
captain.  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  thus.  Where 
did  you  meet  with  your  misfortune?" 

"  At  the  bridge  across  the  Tottapotamoi. 
We  had  quite  a  struggle  there." 

"  Yes,"  said  Fairehild,  "and  Captain  Royal 
was  wounded  at  the  same  time." 

'Did  the  rebels  meet  with  any  loss?" 
asked  Orit,  anxious  for  information. 

Nil  irieat  loss,  "  was  tlie  reply;  "but  we 
have  liiaiil  that  I'aptain  Latane,  of  the  Es- 
sex (-avail  V,  was  killed." 

•- Is  It  |i..ssii.li.:  His  loss  will  be  severely 
fell  ii\  III.-  Ciiiiti-.lerates.  He  was  a  brave 
s.il.li.'i,  aii.l  a  |ii-rli-(-t  gentleman." 

'■^■.■;  his  i-ininiy  is  ne.xt    to    mine,   you 

--  \h  !  M's;  to  be  sure." 

-Niiiv,  then,  gintlemen,  will  yez  be  atiu' 
siiiiiiiliiiiu-?  Sure,  ther  mate  is  ready,"  put 
ill  'run,  at  this  moment. 

'-  ( If  i-niii-se  thev  will,"  said  the  lieutenant, 
••and  at  the  saiiic  time.  Tiin,  you  might 
favor  us  with  auotlu-r  of  your  stories.  Iu 
that  way  we  shall  make  sure  you  are  not 
getting  "any  more  than  your  fair  share  of 
this  extra  supply  ot  victuals." 

'•Arrah!  now,  it's  cunning  ye  air,  litten- 
aut;  but,  sure,  I'm  not  falin'  up  to  a  story 
jist  at  presiut,  sor."  . 

'Then  give  us  a  song,  Tim,"  cried  out  one 
of  the  men. 

"A  song,  is  it?  an'  sure,  do  ye  think  that 
a  man  can  >ing  whin  his  heart's  too  low  for 
him  to  be  tillin'  a  story?  Go  way  wid  ye, 
.mtiim-iit  about  ye  at  all  at  all." 
Ill,  ,-a:.l  ill.  other,  "tellusabout 
the  gi'iii  rai^  -i-i .  i -in-law,  and  how  your 
frieial,  till- lai. lain,  ^oi  li-r  to  sing  a  song  at 
thegi-ni-iars  ^laml  |.art\-.' 

'•To  till-  ilivil  \\  Hi  \ .-,'  .Tied  Tim.  "Sure, 
woulil  VI- III- s.-in.  in' nil- into  telliu'  a  story 
an' sin-in' a  son- al  ^^all  an'  ther  sametime, 
whin  Tin  b  ilin   lliai  bad  that  I  cud  cry?" 

••Wbals  till-  niatti-r.  Tim?"  rather  un- 
guai-.l.-.llv  a-ki-.l  ili.- lu-uteuant. 

•'Wbv,' sun-,  sol-,  ■  responded  the  Irish- 
man, -rM-.iisi  i-.-ini-niliered  that  this  isther 
anuivei^ary  av  the  death  av  me  poor  old 
grandfather." 

"Is  that  so?  Pray  what  was  the  matter 
with  the  old  gentleman?'  asked  Fairehild, 
with  a  great  show  of  interest. 

"  Why.  thin,  I  jist  disremember  all  about 
ther  complaint ;  but  I'm  thinkiu'  he  had  a 
fall  from  a  scaffolding,  an'  broke  his  neck." 

"How  was  that,  Tim?" 

I'Whv,  sin-t-,  tbin.  there  war  a  rope  arouud 

it    an'  1 1  li  I.  li.  .1  il I.i  -intlemau  up  short, 

af.in.K    ,■  I.I   .i:i-.    •  M-.    .-..i.nd." 

I     .  I      .  I     .mil  now    there 

•,■.,.     .     .  ,,      ;       I  II    >i..ry  and  song. 

This  iiino  inn  ~li..wiil  no  inclination  to 
dei-liiii-:   but  turning  to  the  oflicers  and  new 

""•'Yi'-'uui.st  k'l'iin'v,  tiiii'n  that  this  I'm  tellin' 
ye,  happi-ni-d  in  1  luiilin  some  time  ago,  afore 
liver  thought  av  s.-i-in'  this  swate  country. 

"A  big  otliiii--a  ^dni-i-al,  in  fact- con- 
nected wid  tlii-r  -i.vi-innient,  had  a  regular 
out  an'  out  sisti-r-iii-law.  whom  he  had 
niver  seen,  an'  av  whom  he  war  as  much 
afeered  as  if  she  war  ther  divil  himself,  an' 
for  good  raisons,  too,  for  sure  she  war  a 
queer  wan.  ,  ,     , 

•'  Y'e  see,  years  afore,  the  gmeral  had  mar- 
ried a  pretty  Irish   girl   in   Dublin,    an' thm 


ye  I 


THE  WAR  LIBRAR"?. 


6^3  7 


cone  right  away  to  London,  where  his  wife 
'lied,  an'  that's  why  he  hadn't  seen  mueh  av 
her  family ;  but  he'd  heard  enough  av  thim, 
ye  may  he  sure  av  that. 

"  Well,  he  came  Imek,  an'  whiu  he  tuelj 
up  his  risiileiu'i' ill  Diililin  lie  concluded  to 
f-'iveapraiiil  parly:  l.ut  lir  didu't  send  his 
sister-hi-law,  .\Ii>s  Maiaii,  ivho  was  livin' 
down  in  tlie  west,  an'  invitation,  but  some 
[wan  else,  out  av  (!i\iliiit'ut  did,  an'  sure,  she 
fame. 

j  "Now  ye  oupht  to  be  linowin' that  this 
Isame  Miss  Maran  war  a  lady  av  about  forty 
or  more,  liut  that  she  war  always  thinkin' 
she  war  as  swatc  an'  innocent  a  child  as  wan 
av  less  than  tninty.  an'  that  all  the  young 
fellows  war  wantin'  to  make  love  to  her. 

"Well,  as  I  war  sayiu',  she  came  to  the 
gineral's  grand  party,  an'  a  friend  av  me 
own,  wan  Captain  Powers,  an  aide  to  the 


gineral,  determined  to  have  some  fun  out  av 
her,  knowin'  mighty  well  how  it  would  an- 
noy her  brother-in-law,  an' tickle  the  com- 
pany. 

"  Well,  he  made  much  av  her,  an'  tuck  her 
down  to  supper,  an'  thin  he  found  a  place 
for  her  in  wan  corner,  an'  when  he  thought 
the  right  time  had  come  to  bring  her  out,  so 
to  spake,  he  began  his  blandishments  in  dead 
earnest.  The  first  those  about  thiiii  kn.u- 
av  what  war  goin' on,  war  whin  tiny  sud- 
denly heard  a  simperin'  faymale  voii-f,  .x- 
claimin' : 

"•  Don't,  now— don't,  I  tell  ye;  it's  little 
ye  know  Galway,  or  ye  wouldn't  think  to 
make  up  to  me,  squeezin'  me  fut.' 

"  '  Upon  my  soul,  you're  au  angel— a  regu- 
lar angel,' says  ther  captain.    'I  never  saw 
a  woman  suit  my  fancy  before,'  says  he. 
"'Oh,  behave,  now,'  she  cried.    'Father 

Magrath  says ' 

• '  Who's  he  ?'  a.xes  ther  captain. 
'The  priest;  no  less.'  she  says. 
"'Oh!  confound  him,' cries  Powers. 
" '  Confound     Father     Magrath,     young 
man  ?' 

"'Well,  thin,  Judy,  don't  be  angry;  I 
only  meant  that  a  soldier  knows  more  av 
these  matters  than  a  priest,'  says  the  cap- 
tain. 

"  '  Well,  thin,  I'm  not  so  sure  av  that,'  she 
tells  him;  'but  anyhow,  I'd  have  ye  to  ri- 
member  it  ain't  a  Widow  Malone  ye  have 
beside  ye.' 

"  '  Niver  heard  av  the  lady,'  says  Powers, 
says  he. 

"  '  Sure,  it's  a  song— poor  crayture — it's  a 
song  they  made  about  her  in  the  North 
Cork  Rigiment,  whin  they  war  quarthered 
down  in  our  country,'  she  tells  him. 

"'I  wish  to  Heaven  you'd  sing  it,'  cries 
Powers. 

'•'WhatwiU  ye  give  me  thin,  av  1  do?' 
she  whispers. 

■• '  Anything— everything— my  heart,   my 
life,'  says  the  captain. 
"  '  Ah !  would  ye  now,  darlint  ?' 
"'I  would.' 

"  '  An'  would  ye  give  me  that  beautiful 
green  nng  on  yer  finger  beside?'  she  asks. 
"  "  ■  "     "     "        a 

for 
your  promise.' 

"'May  be  me  brother-in-law  might  not 
like  it,'  she  objects. 

"'He'd  be  delighted,'   says  Powers;   'he 
jist  dotes  on  music' 
"'Does  he,  now?' 

"  '  On  my  honor,  he  does,'  declares  the 
wicked  captain,  gravely. 

"  '  Well,  moiud  ye  get  up  a  good  chorus,' 
she  says,  'fur  the  song  has  wan,  an' here 
it  is.' 

"'Miss  Macau's  song!'  cries  Powers,  tap- 
pin  the  table  wid  his  knife. 

"  '  Miss  Macau's  song !"  was  echoed  an'  re- 
echoed on  all  sides;  and  before  the  unlucky 
gineral  could  interfere,  she  had  begun. 

"  An'  this  is  phat  she  sung,"  continued 
Tim: 


Did  ye  1 


>  Widow  Malone, 
own  av  Athlone. 


Oh  I  she  melted  the  hearts 
Of  the  swains  in  thim  parts, 
So  lovely  the  Widow  Malone, 

So  lovely  the  Widow  Malone. 
'  Of  lovers  she  had  a  full  score. 


From  the  minister  down 


'  the  Widow  Malone. 


•Oh,' says  I 
'Oh,' says  1 


Myo' 
3  mv  Molly  Male 
,11  thought  so  St] 


And< 


J  comfort  i 


Not  wrong : 
But  Strong  : 


If  for  widows  you  di 

Ijearn  to  ktjis,  not  to  siyii. 

For  they're  all  like  sweet  Mistress  Malone, 

Oh,  they're  very  like  Mistress  Malone." 

To  explain  the  air  to  which  Tim  snug  this 
song  would  be  impossible;  indeed,  I  am  in- 
clined to  thiuk  it  never  had  a  name ;  but,  at 
tlie  end  of  each  verse,  a  species  of  echo  fol- 
lowed the  last  word,  that  rendered  it  irre- 
sistil)ly  ridiculous. 

The  boys  yelled  and  shouted  in  their  mer- 
riment ;  some  even  rolling  over  aud  over  on 
tlie  ground  In  their  paroxysms  of  laughter 
and  delight. 

It  was  some  time  before  the  lieutenant 
could  make  himself  heard ;  but  at  last  he 
managed  to  ask : 

"  Well,  Tim,  what  did  the  general  and  his 
friends  think  of  that  song  ?" 

"Sure,  thin,  sor,"  said  Tim,  "niver  did 
song  create  such  a  sinsation  as  that  same  wan 
av  Miss  Macan  ;  an'  certainly  her  desires  as 
to  the  chorus  were  followed  to  the  letther, 
for  'the  Widow  Malone,  Ohone!'  resounded 
from  wan  ind  av  the  table  to  the  other,  amid 
wan  universal  shout  av  laughter — the  same 
as  it  did  here. 

"  None  could  resist  the  ludicrous  effects  av 
her  melody,  sure  ;  an'  aven  the  poor  gineral, 
sinkin'  under  the  disgrace  of  his  relation- 
ship—which she  had  contrived  to  make  pub- 


in  the  mirth  around  him 

"  Well,  we  ought  to  hate  a  drink  after  that 
— don't  you  think  so,  captain  ?"  said  Fair- 
child.  "  Tim,  fish  up  two  or  three  of  those 
bottles  out  of  the  stream.  We'll  see  if  we 
can't  do  justice  to  the  governor's  wine." 

"  I'm  quite  willin',"  grinned  the  Irishman, 
as  he  started  to  his  feet. 


CHAPTER  X. 

IN  THE  UNION  CAMP. 

Lieutenant  Fenton  Dunbar  and  his  detach- 
ment of  cavalry  did  not  leave  the  mansion 
until  some  hours  after  Grit  Carroll  and  his 
companions  had  departed  from  the  vicinity ; 
but  then,  anxious  to  overtake  the  main  col- 
umn, they  pressed  on  with  all  speed  until 
about  one  o'clock,  when  they  reached  an  in- 
viting spot  by  the  side  of  a  pleasant  stream, 
where  the  lieutenant  ordered  them  to  halt. 

At  the  plantation  they  had  supplied  them- 
selves  with  something  in  the  way  of  rations, 
aud,  when  the  lieutenant  had  eaten  his  fru- 
gal meal,  he  wandered  forth  alone  upon  the 
bank  of  the  stream,  now  standing  to  watch 
its  bold  sweeps  as  it  traversed  the  lovely 
valley  before  him,  now  turning  to  catch  a 
passing  glance  at  the  camp-fire,  and  the 
hardy  features  which  sat  around. 

The  hoarse  and  careless  laugh,  the  deep- 
toned  voice  of  some  old  campaigner  giv- 
ing forth  his  tale  of  flood  and  field  were  the 
only  sounds  he  heard;  and  gradually  he 
strolled  lieyond  the  reach  of  even  these. 

The  path  beside  the  river,  which  seemed 
worn  in  the  rock,  was  barely  sufficient  for 
the  passage  of  one  man,  the  underwood 
growing  along  its  edge  being  the  only  de- 
fense against  the  precipice,  which,  from  a 
height  of  full  twenty-five  feet,  looked  down 
upon  the  stream. 

Here  and  there  some  broad  gleam  of  sun- 
light would  fall  upon  the  opposite  bank, 
which,  unlike  the  one  he  occupied,  stretch- 
ed out  into  rich  meadow  and  pasturage, 
broken  by  occasional  clumps  of  beech  and 
holly. 

River  scenery  had  ever  been  a  passion 
with  him.  He  could  glory  in  the  bold  and 
broken  outline  of  a  mighty  mountain- he 
could  gaze  with  delighted  eyes  upon  the 
boundless  sea.  and  knew  not  whether  to  like 
it  more  in  all  till'  niiu'lity  outpouring  of  its 
wratli.ivhru  th.-  whitr  waves  lifted  their 
heads  ti>  llca\  en,  and  l.roke  themselves  in 
foam  upon  the  n..ky  liraih,  or  in  the  calm 
beauty  ot  its  Ipioatl  and  mirrored  surface, 
in  which  the  bright  world  of  sun  and  sky 
were  seen  full  many  a  fathom  deep. 


and  throu-ii  pla.n,  nnw  ,-pr.adin;;-  int..  >..nie 

an  eddyiuj;  strcain,  with  mossy  rocks  and 
waving  tn-.'s  darkening  over  it. 

There  was  lint  a  cabin,  however  lowly, 
where  tlie  net  of  the  ti.sherman  was  stretch- 
upou  the  sward,  around  whose  hearth  he 
did  not  picture  before  him  the  faces  of, 
happy  toil  and  humble  contentment,  while,! 
from  the  deserted  mansiou  orruined  hall,  on 
bank  or  hillside,  he  imagined  he  could  hear 
the  ancient  sounds  of  cood  cheer  and  wel- 
come. 

As  he  wandered  on,  he  reached  the  nar- 
row path  which  led  downward  to  the  river- 
side; and.  on  examining  further,  perceived 
that  in  tliis  iila.c  th.'str.-aui  was  fordable; 
ahugetlat  r...k,  niliii-  up  a  ^r.'atpartof 
the  river  l.r.l.  ...■.■npi.-.l  tl..-  nii.l.ll.-,  on  either 
side  of  whiili  till.  cuiTcut  ran  witli  increased 
force. 

Bent  upon  exploring,  he  descended  the 
cliff,  and  was  preparing  to  cross,  when  his 
attention  was  atti-acted  by  the  light  of  a  fire 
at  some  distance  from  him,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  narrow  stream  that  fed  the  river. 
The  flame  rose  and  fell  in  fitful  flashes,  as 
though  some  hand  was  ministering  to  it  at 
the  moment. 

As  it  seemed  impossible,  from  the  silence 
on  every  side,  that  it  could  proceed  from  au 
encampment  of  any  great  numlier  of  the 
enemy,  he  resolved  on  approaching  it  and 
examining  it  for  himself. 

He  knew  that  the  negroes  sometimes  built 
fires  on  the  river  banks.  It  was  not  impos- 
sible, too,  that  it  might  prove  a  guerrilla 
party,  who  frequently,  in  small  numbers, 
hung  upon  the  rear  of  a  moving  column. 

Thus  conjecturiug,  he  crossed  the  smaller 
stream,  and,  quickening  his  pace,  walked 
forward  in  the  direction  of  the  fire. 

For  a  moment  a  projecting  rock  obstructed 
progress;    and,    while   he   was  devising 


5  sound 


some  meansof  proceeding  further 

of  voices  near  him  arrested  his  attention. 

He  listened,  and  was  sure  the  speakers 
were  soldiers,  but  as  yet  could  not  tell  to 
which  army  they  belonged. 

He  now  crept  cautiously  to  the  verge  of 
the  rock  and  looked  over.  Before  him  was 
a  little  shelving  strand  beside  the  stream, 
and  here  he  now  beheld  the  figure  of  a 
Union  cavalryman. 

He  was  in  the  uniform  of  a  common  sol- 
dier, but  wore  no  arms.  Indeed,  his  occupa- 
tion at  that  moment  was  anything  but  a 
warlike  one,  he  being  leisurely  employed  in 
collecting  some  bottles  of  wine  which  ap- 
parently had  been  left  to  cool  within  the 
stream. 

"Confound  it,  Tim!"  said  a  voice  in  the 
direction  of  the  fire;  "what  are  you  delay- 
ing for?" 

"Sure,  thin,  I'm  comin',  sor,"  said  the 
other;  "  but,  be  ther  powers !  I  can  onlj' find 
five  av  ther  bottles.  Wan  av  them  seems  to 
have  been  carried  away  by  the  sthream." 

"No  matter,"  rephed  the  other.  "As  I 
told  you,  we  only  want  two  or  three  of  them 
now ;  perhaps  you  can  find  the  missing  one 
later." 

The  only  answer  to  this  was  the  muttered 
chorus  of  an  Irish  song,  of  which  Dunbar 
could  only  make  out : 

"  For  they're  all  like  sweet  MistTe^s  Malone, 
Oh,  they're  very  like  Mistress  Malone  \" 

This  was  interrupted  at  intervals  by  im- 
precations on  the  missing  bottle. 

It  chanced  just  then  that  a  slight  clinking 
noise  attracted  the  lieutenant's  attention, 
and,  looking  down,  he  perfnived  at  the  fpot 
of  the  rock  the  prize  the  other  s..ught  for. 

It  had  been,  as  he  conceived,  carried  away 
by  the  eddy  of  the  stream,  aud  -nas  borne, 
as  a  true  prisoner  of  war,  withiu  the  Con- 
federate's grasp. 

From  thismoment  his  interest  in  the  scene 
became  considerably  heightened.  Such  a 
waif  as  a  good  bottle  of  wine  was  not  to  be 
despised  in  circumstances  like  his;  and  he 
watched  with  anxious  eyes  every  gesture  of 
the  Impatient  Irishman,  and  alternately  vi- 
brated between  hope  and  fear  as  he  neared 
or  receded  from  the  missing  bottle. 

"Let  it  go  to  perdition,"  shouted  a  voice 
from  the  fire,  "Captaii  Ingold  and  Grithere 


divil  a  good  bottle  av  wine,  I've  no 

say;"  and  the  Irishman  prepared  to  take  up 

his  burden. 

At  this  instant  Dunbar  made  a  slight  effort 
to  change  his  position  so  as  to  obtain  a  view 
of  the  rest  of  the  party. 

The  brauoh  by  which  he  supported  hiiu- 


10 


i-3i 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


self,  however,  gave  way  beneath  his  grasp 
without  a  loud  crash. 

He  lost  his  footing,  and  slipping  downward 
from  the  rock,  came  plumi)  into  the  stream 
below. 

The  noise,  the  splash,  and,  more  than  all, 
the  sudden  appearance  of  a  man  beside  him, 
astonished  tiie  Irishman,  who  almost  let  fall 
his  gathered  bottles;  and  thus  they  stood 
eontroutiu^  each  other  for  at  least  a"  couple 
of  minutes  iu  sileur  . 

A  hearty  burst  of  laughter  from  both  par- 
ties term"inated  this  awlfward  moment, 
while  the  Irishman,  with  the  readiness  of  his 
eountiymeu,  was  the  first  to  open  the  ne- 
gotiation. 

"Howly  Bridget!"  exclaimed  he,  'phat 
can  ye  be  doin'  here  ?  You're  a  rebel  wid- 
out  doubt!" 

"Even  so."  laughed  Dunbar;  "but  that  is 
the  very  question  I  was  about  to  ask  you; 
what  are  vou  doing  here?" 

'■Sure,  'thin,"  replied  Tim.  "I'll  not  be 
longiu  tiUiu' ye  that.  Captain  Ingold  war 
wounded  in  tbf  action  at  the  bridge,  an'  we 


heard   liad 


way  to  tiie  ifUPiai  i 
dozen  sthrouK,  wan  t 
cut  in  his  shoulder, 
party,  we  are,  I  suppo; 
not-      " 


brought  up  this  way  by 
When  Stuart  war  out  of  av 
•-rut  jiermission  to  come  iu 
;iii  ^\e  found  him  early  this 
'  :.ly  that,  but  we  came 
^liiid  things  by  the  way 
I  '•■  bottles.  We're  on  our 
lai  Jiiics  now,  some  tin  or  a 
■  an  a\  us  wid  an  ugly  saber- 
It  ye  are  the  stronger 
your  prisoners;  if 


What  was  to  have  followed,  it  would  be 
hard  to  say,  for  at  this  moment  an  officer, 
who  had  finally  lost  all  patience,  came  sud- 
denly to  the  spot. 

"A  prisoner."  cried  he,  placing  a  heavy 
hand  upon  Feiitmi  Duiibni's  shoulder,  while 
with  the  otlifi  ln'  lulil  liis  drawn  sword 
pointed  tow  a  id  lii<  lir. 'a-t. 

For  Dunbar  to  draw  a  ]iistol  from  his  bo- 
som was  but  the  work  of  a  second  ;  and  while 
gently  turning  the  point  of  the  Union 
ofHcer's  weapon  away,  he  coolly  said : 

'■Not  so  fast,  my  friend,  not  so  fast!  The 
game  ia  in  my  hands,  not  yours.  I  have  only 
to  ))ull  this  trigger,  and  my  men,  thirty  In 
number,  are  upon  you ;  whatever  fate  befals 
me,  yours  is  certain." 

A  half-scornful  laugh  betrayed  the  incre- 
dulity of  the  Union  officer,  while  the  Irish- 
man,"nppareatly  anxious  to  relieve  the  awk- 
wardness of  the  moment,  suddenly  broke  in 
with: 

'■Sure,  thin,  he's  roight,  lieutenant,  dar- 
lint,  an'  savin'  vour  prcsince,  vou're  wrong; 
we  are  iu  liis  power.  Tliat  is,"  added  he, 
with  a  peculiar  liisUgrhi.  "  av  he  belaves 
there's  any  great  triumph  iu  capturiu'  sich 
a  little  mess  av  poor  divils  as  oursilves." 

The  features  of  the  Union  officer  suddenly 
lost  their  scornful  expression,  and  sheathing 
his  sword  with  a  certain  air  of  resignation, 
he  calmly  said : 

"  If  this  be  so,  1  fear  we  uiusl  submit.  I 
have  a  dear  friend  heii — a  bintlier  nin.  ,r, 
who  is  badly  wounded  ;  were  it  ^.tlieiui  eil 
might  be  different.  1  (ant  lly  and  lea\e 
him,  vou  l;now;  but  were  he  eiilv  in  a  place 
of  safety,  I'd  not  mind  uieeliu!;  Iliree,  ay, 
even  four  times  our  niunber  in  battle." 

Fentou  Dunbar  smiled.  It  was  n.it  an  un- 
pleasant or  sarcastic  smile,  but  rather  one  of 
rare  good  humor. 

The  Union  officer  sawthesmile  and  quick- 
ly iuterjireting  it  as  a  good  augur.y,  cheer- 
fully said  : 

"So,  then,  you'll  not  make  us  prisoners 
this  time.    Am  I  not  right  ?" 

"Prisoners,"  put  in  Tim,  officiously. 
"Shure,  thin,  he'll  do  nothin' av  the  kind. 
Come  an'  take  a  bite  wid  us,  sor;  I'llvinture 
to  say  we'll  give  ye  as  good  mate  as  ye'll  get 
up  above  tliere.  In  on y  case  at  all,  a  little 
cowUi  ihiikin  an'  a  glass  av  good  wine  ain't 
no  bad  things  in  our  sarcumstances." 

Feuton  could  not  help  laughing  outright 
at  the  strangeness  of  the  proposal. 

"  I  greatly  fear  I  must  decline,"  he  said ; 
"  you  seem  to  forget  1  am  here  at  this  time 
to  watch,  not  to  join  you." 

"To  ther  uivil  wid  yer  scruples,"  cried 
the  Irishman.  "Sure,  thin,  do  both.  Come 
along  now,  like  a  good  fellow;  ye  arealways 
near  your  own  men,  so  don't  refuse  us." 

"Yes,  yes;  do  come,  lieutenant,"  said  the 
Union  officer,  cordially ;  "  you  shall  be  made 
very  welcome." 

Feuton  again  shook  his  head.  But  in  pro- 
portion as  he  declined,  they  both  became 
more  pressing  in  their  entreaties,  and  at  hist 
beginning  to  dread  lest  his  refusal  might 
seem  to  i)roceed  from  some  fear  as  to  the 
good  faith  of  the  invitation,  he  said  : 
"This  really  is  an  awkward  position  you 


place  me  iu.    I  dislike  to  refuse  you,   and 
yet " 

"Come,  come;  don't  be  foolish,  that's  a 
good  fellow,"  said  the  other  officer 
cipline,"  said  Dunl 
ing,  you  know.    And  then, 
my  own  men,  wnat " 

■■  Arruli,  now,  don't  be  thinkin'  av  them," 
intermiitedTim. 

'■  Come,  come!  "  added  the  Union  officer  ; 
"in  an  hour— in  half  an  hour,  it  you  will — 
you  shall  be  back  with  your  men ;  we've 
had  plenty  of  fighting  lately,  and  we  are 
likely  to  have  enough  of  it  in  future.  We 
know  something  of  each  other  in  the  field ; 
let  us  see  how  we  get  on  together  around  the 
camp-fire." 

Resolving  not  to  be  outdone  in  generosity, 
Fenton  at  once  replied : 

"  Here  goes  then !  Lead  the  way,  lieuten- 
ant." 

A  moment  later  he  was  at  the  camp-fire. 

To  his  utter  amazement,  one  of  the  men 
seated  there  instantly  started  to  his  feet  with 
the  Involuntary  exclamation : 

"Fenton  Dunbar!"' 

He  scrutinized  the  man's  features  closely. 

"Surely,"  he  said,  at  last,  "  I  have  seen 
vou  before;  and  yet " 

■■  I    am    Clinton    Carroll,"  said  the  other, 

■•Clinton   Carroll!"  echoed  Dunbar,  "and 


CHAPTER  XI. 

SURPRISED     BY   GUERRILLAS. 

'■Yes,  Fenton."  said  Grit  Carroll,  calmly, 
"I  belong  to  the  Union  army.  I  fight  as  I 
believe  1  have  a  perfect  right  to  fight,  lor 
my  unalterable  convictions.  I  have  ever 
believed  that  secession  was  wrong— more 
than  that,  a  crime;  nay,  worse  than  a  crime; 
hence.  I  am  here.  I  belong  toBurnham's 
cavalry.  This  is  my  lieutenant.  Permit  me 
to  make  you  acqiiainted  with  Lieutenant 
Fairchild.  1  know  you  both  well,  and  am 
sure  two  better  men  nei  ei'  met." 

Lieutenant  FaireliiM  then  introduced  his 
guest  to  Captain  hifxolil,  and,  with  a  wave 
of  his  hand  made  him  known  to  the  others 
about  the  fire. 

Aftei^  this,  Dunbar  turned  to  Grit  and 
said: 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  meet  you  again,  Mr. 
Carroll,  and  while  I  am  an  officer  in  the  Con- 
federate army,  yet,  permit  me  to  assure  you, 
that,  knowing  you  and  your  family  so  well 
as  I  do,  I  am  thoroughly  persuaded  that 
conviction,  and  conviction  alone  has  led 
vou  into  the  Union  ranks,  and,  therefore, 
instead  of  tliiuking  less  of  you,  I  honor  you 
for  the  step  vou  have  taken,  knowing  what 
a  sacrifice  it  must  have  cost." 

"Thank  you,  Fenton,"  said  the  scout.  "I 
am  very  glad  indeed,  to  retain  your  friend- 
shij),  and  I  believe  the  time  is  not  far  distant 
when  I  shall  be  able  to  do  you  a  really 
friendly  turn  ;  but,  no  more  of  that  at  pres- 
ent." 

Several  of  the  bottles  of  wine  -were  now 
ojiened,  and  between  eating  and  drinking, 
Dunliar  listened  to  many  a  good  story. 

Atlengtli  Captain  Ingold  raised  himself  a 
little,  and  addressed  him  a  question.  Fen- 
ton replied,  and  then  ciuiekly  continued  : 

•■Do  \  on  l.now,  captain,  it  strikes  me  I 
have  seen  vou  before,  and  not  so  very  long 
ago,  either?" 

"It  is  possible,"  rejoined  the  captain; 
"  l)ut  I  should  judge  it  could  only  have  been 
in  action." 

"  Were  you  iu  the  valley  recently  ?"  asked 
Fenton. 

"  Yes,  it  was  there  I  gained  my  company," 
was  the  replv. 

"Ah !  aud"it  was  there  I  saw  you— at  Win- 
ilii-^ter,  1  tUinlv.  Tell  us  about  your  ijart  in 
the  eni^a-enienl,  eaijtaiu." 

••  Y.-.-,  it  -vvas  at  Winchester,"  said  the  cap- 
tain, i  >lleeti\elv.  "You  should  have  seen 
th.ni,  if  vouclidn't.  The  command  iu  which 
I  was  a  lieutenant  was  orderod  to  form  close 
column,  and  charge  through  a  narrow  ra- 
viue  to  carry  a  battery  of  guns,  which,  by  a 
flankiug  fire,  were  devastating  our  troops. 
Before  we  could  reach  the  point  aimed  at, 
we  were  obliged  to  pass  an  open  plain,  in 
which  the  ground  dipped  for  about  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  yards  or  more,  the  column 
moved  on,  and,  though  it  descended  one 
hill,  not  a  man  ever  mounted  the  opposite 
one.  A  very  avalanche  of  balls  swept  the 
entire  valley;  and,  yet,  amid  the  thunder 
and  the  smoke,  the  red  glare  of  the  artillery, 
and   the  carimge  around  them,  our  troops 


[I oral  Shields  sent  an  aide-de- 
rders  for  us  to  dismount  and 
and  in  this  position  the  artil- 


lery played  over  us  for  more  than  half  an 
hour. 

"The  Confederates  gradually  slackened, 
and,  finally  discontinued  their  fire;  this  was 
the  moment  to  resume  the  attack. 

"  I  crept  cautiously  to  my  knees,  and 
looked  about.  One  word  brought  my  men 
around  me;  but  I  found,  to  my  horror,  that, 
of  a  full  squadron  who  came  into  action,  not 
a  huudred  remained;  and  that  I  myself,  a 
mere  lieutenant,  was  now  the  senior  officer. 

'■Our  gallant  commander  lay  dead  beside 
my  feet.  At  this  instant  a  thought  struck 
me. 

"  I  remembered  a  habit  he  possessed,  in 
moments  of  difficulty  and  danger,  of  placing 
in  his  hat  a  small  yellow  plume  which  he 
commonly  carried  in  his  belt. 

"  I  searched  for  it,  and  found  it. 

"As  1  held  it  aloft,  a  maddening  cheer 
burst  around  me,  while,  from  out  the  line, 
each  officer  sprung  madly  forward,  and 
rushed  to  the  head  of  the  column. 

"  It  was  no  long  march.  With  a  loud  cry 
of  vengeance,  the  mass  jjressed  forward,  the 
men  trying  to  outstrip  their  officers,  and 
come  first  in  contact  with  the  foe. 

"  Like  tigers  on  the  spring,  they  fell  upon 
the  enemy,  who — crushed,  overwhelmed, 
and  massacred— lay  in  slaughtered  heaps 
around  the  cannon. 

"  A  fresh  regiment  of  cavalry  came  thun- 
dering on  behind  us,  a  whole  division  fol- 
lowed, many  prisoners  were  taken  and  the 
whole  battery  was  captured. 

"I  sat  upon  the  carriage  of  one  of  the 
gnus,  my  face  begrimed  with  powder,  and 
my  uniform  blackened  and  blood-stained. 
The  whole  thing  appeared  like  some  horri- 
ble dream.  I  felt  a  hand  upon  my  shoulder, 
while  a  rough  voice  called  in  my  ear,  'Cap- 
tain, vou've  won  glory  enough  for  one  day. 
Remember,  from  this  moment,  I  am  your 
friend!' 

"It  was  General  Shields  who  spoke.  This," 
added  the  brave  captain,  his  eyes  filling  as 
as  he  said  the  words,  "  this  is  the  saber  he 
gave  me." 

"  Sure,  thin,  the  gineral's  a  thrump,"  e-x- 
claimed  Tim,  flourishing  a  half-empty  bot- 
tle above  his  head. 


"  How  do  I  know  anything  ahoutit,  is  it?" 
said  Tim.  "  Why,  thin,  sure,  lie's  a  country- 
man av  me  own,  an'  so  can't  be  onything 
else  but  a  dacent  lad." 

"Ha-ha!  he's  got  you  there,  lieutenant," 
laughed  Ingold. 

'•1  say,  Tim,"  said  one  of  the  men,  sudden- 
ly, "how  was  it  that  you  got  into  trouble 
shortly  after  you  enlisted,  and  while  you 
were  on  giiaid  dutv  near  the  treasury  de- 
partment at  Washington  ?' 

"Arrah!  go  way  -svid  ye  now.  Don't  be 
rakiu'  up  old  scores  at  this  late  day,"  rejoined 
Tim,  with  a  broad  grin  upon  his  face. 

"  Come,  come,  Tim,"  cried  the  lieutenant ; 
"tell  us  all  about  it.  Give  us  a  chance  to 
condole  with  von  man." 

"Well,  tliitl,  ef  ve  will  have  it,  ye  will; 
but,  sure,  th,ie->  veiy  lit  tie  to  t  ill.  It  war 
me  first  e.Kpc  rieiiee  at  fruard-iuouutin',  an'  I 
strutted  uloug  me  beat  wid  a  full  apprecia- 
tion av  ther  dignity  au'  importance  av  me 
position.  By  an' by  a  giutleman  appoach- 
ed,  au,  I  shouted  out  at  him  : 

"'Halt!- who  comes  there?' 

"  '  A  citizen,'  savs  he.  as  mild  as  milk. 

'"Advance,  citizen,  an'  give  ther  counter- 
sign,' says  I,  as  fierce  as  I  cud  say  it. 

" '  I  haven't  the  countersign,'  he^says;  'an', 
if  I  had,  the  demand  for  it  iit  this  time  an' 
place  is  something  verv  strange  an'  unusual.' 

'"An,  liv  the  liolv"Moses,' I  yells  at  him, 
fiercer  nor"  ever, 've  don't  pass  this  way  at 
all,  till  ve  sav  Bunker  Hill,  so  ye  don't." 

"Sure,  thin,  the  citizen  seemed  ter  appre- 
ciate the  situation,  an'  he  advanced  an' 
cautiously  whispered  into  me  ear  ther 
words  '  Bunker  Hill '  jist  as  if  he  know'd 
thim  all  the  while. 

"'Right!  Pass  on,'  1  says,  straightening 
meself  up,  an"  he  passed.    That's    all    there 


wasaboutit,  only  ther  b'ys  got  the  laugh 
"  made  me  think  I'd  got  meself 
into  a  hape  av  throuble 


onto  I 


e,  an 


Tim's  little  story  created  quite  a  burst  of 
merriment.  How  long  this  might  have 
lasted,  it  is  hard  to  say;  for  all  at  once  they 
were  startled  into  silence  by  the  tramp  of 
horses  near  them. 

They  listened  breathlessly,  and  could 
plainly  detect  in  their  rude  voices  and 
coarse  laughter  the  approach  of  a  body  of 
guerrillas. 

They    looked    fron 
silence  and  iu  fear. 

Nothing  could  he  more  unfortunate  should 
they  be  discovered. 


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Upon  this  point  tliey  were  left  little  time 
to  deliberate ;  for,  with  a  loud  cheer,  a  band 
of  horsemen  galloped  up  to  the  spot,  their 
tarbiues  in  rest. 

The  Union  men  instantly  sprnng  to  their 
feet,  and  seized  their  sabers,  bent  upon 
making  a  resolute  resistance. 

As  for  Dunbar,  his  determination  was  at 
once  talien. 

Remaining  quietly  seated  by  the  fire,  he 
stirred  not  for  a  minute,  but,  addressing  the 
one  who  appeared  to  be  the  chief  of  the 
guerrillas,  calmly  said : 

"  These  are  my  prisoners ;  I  am  a  Confed- 
erate officer  of  cavalry,  and  my  party  is 
youder." 

This  evidently  unexpected  declaration 
seemed  to  surprise  them,  and  they  conferred 


for 


Me 


replied  the  leader : 


^bid 


Fairchild,  and  those  with  him,  turned  upon 
Dunbar  an  inquiring  look,  as  though  to  say 
that  upon  him  now  their  hopes  entirely 
rested. 

"  Do  as  he  bids  you,"  said  the  young  Con- 
federate; while  at  the  same  moment  he 
sprung  to  his  feet,  and  gave  a  loud,  shrill 
whistle,  the  last  echo  of  which  had  not  died 
away  in  the  distance  ere  it  was  replied  to. 

"  Make  uo  mistake  now,"  said  Feuton  to 
the  Union  men;  "our  safety  depends  on 
this." 

While  this  was  passing,  two  of  the  guer- 
rillas had  dismouuted,  and,  detaching  a  coil 
of  rope  which  hung  from  their  saddle-bow, 
were  proceeding  to  tie  the  prisoners  wrist  to 
wrist ;  the  others,  with  their  carbines  to  the 
shoulder,  covered  them  man  by  man,  the 
chief  of  the  party  having  singled  out  Dun- 
bar as  his  peculiar  prey. 

"The  fate  of  young  Carroll  and  a  good 
many  others  I  could  name  might  have 
taught  you  better,"  he  said,  "than  to  play 
this  game;"  and  then  he  added,  with  a  grim 
smile:  "But  we'll  see,  if  you  are  a  South- 
erner, if  you  can't  dance  on  nothing  as  well 
as  the  best  Yankee  of  them  all." 

This  riucl  sp.'eili  luirlv  made  voune  Dun- 
bar's   I.I 1    11111     ruia, 'But    tl"..-    pu.TriUa 

chief's  triuiiii.li  ..^.■l■  his  ti'rror  was  sliort- 
lived  eiiouL-li,  f..r  scarcely  bad  the  words 
fallen  from  his  lips,  when  his  own  party, 
dashing  through  the  little  stream  at  a  gallop, 
came  riding  up. 

The  attitude  of  the  guerrillas  as  they  sat 
with  presented  arms,  was  sufficient  for  Fen- 
ton's  men,  who  needed  not  the  exhortation 
of  the  sergeant,  who  rode  foremost  of  the 


Flatten  'em  out !  the  infernal 

"■Whoop!"  shouted  Tim  O'Connell,  as, 
seizing  a  heavy  stick,  he  rushed  at  the 
chief.  Then  with  a  whack  that  was  heard 
above  the  din,  he  tumliled  him  from  his 
horse,  and  before  he  could  recover  his  feet 
was  upon  him,  his  knee  pressed  upon  the 
guerrilla's  neck. 

"Isn't  it  enough  for  ye  to  pillage  the  whole 
country,  ye  dhirty  spalpeen,  widoutwantin' 
to  be  murtherin'  a  little  party  wid  a  wound- 
ed man  amongst  thim  ?"  cried  he,  as  he  held 
him  fast  to  the  earth  with  one  hand,  while 
he  presented  a  loaded  revolver  to  his  face 
with  the  other. 

By  this  time  the  whole  scene  was  suffi- 
ciently ludicrous.  Such  of  the  guerrillas  as 
had  not  been  thrown  by  force  from  their 
saddles  had  slid  peaceably  down,  and  depos- 
iting their  arms  upon  the  ground,  were 
earncsth- 1..  --iiin  fi.r  mercy. 

Leaving'  th.'  .  hirl  i,i  lie  dealt  with  as  Tim 
should  M-i-  111,  Duiiliar  ordered  the  others  to 
rise  and  Lmn  in  lino  before  him.  Affecting 
to  occupy  liimself  entirely  with  them,  he 
withdrew  the  attention  of  all  from  the  Union 
officers  and  men,  who,  with  the  single  ex- 
ception of  Tim,  remained  quiet  spectators  of 
the  scene  nrnnnd  lliem. 

"Kow's  >  -Mir  tiiin',  gentlemen,"  said  Feu- 
ton, aii(lr.V>iiiL;  lni:old  and  Fairchild  in  a 
whispi-i:  ■■-it  to  \  .Mir  horses  and  away !  It's 
now  or  Ufvci.     Cocd-by  !" 

A  warm  grasp  of  the  hand  from  each  was 
the  only  reply,  and  he  turned  once  more  to 
liis  discomtited  friends,  the  guersUlas. 


"There,  Tim,"  he  laughed,  "let  the  poor 
devil  rise.  I  confess,  so  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned, that  appearances  were  very  strong 
against  me  just  i 


igaiust 
Then, 


Irishman  obeyed  him,  and  the 
guerrilla  slowly  rose  to  his  feet : 

"  Well,  captain,  are  you  convinced  by  this 
time  that  I  was  not  deceiving  you  V 

The  partisan  chief  muttered  some  words  of 
apology  between  his  teeth,  and  while  he 
shook  the  dust  from  his  clothes  and  arranged 
the  broken  plume  of  his  liat.casta  look  of 
scowling  and  indlguant  nieaniiig  upon  Tim, 
whose  rough  treatment  he  had  evidently  not 
forgiven. 

"Don't  be  lukin'  at  me  that  way,  ye 
dhirty  thafe,  or  1 11 " 

"Hold  there!"  exclaimed  Dunbar;  "no 
more  of  this."  Then  in  a  hasty  aside:  "Off 
Willi  vou.  Tiu) ;  off  with  you!  See,  your 
fiiciid's  Will  l.e  Iraviiij;  you  behind,"  and 
.|ui.-Klv  tiuiicil  to  llif  chief  to  attract  and 
hold  Ills  alU-utioii,  while  the  Irishman  scud 

"Come,  captain,  come,  gentlemen,  we 
must  be  friends.  If  I  mistake  not,  we've 
got  something  like  refreshments  at  our 
camp  above  there.  In  any  case  you'll  par- 
take of  our  camp-fire  for  an  hour  or  so." 

The  invitation  was  gladly  accepted,  and 
ere  half  an  hour  had  elapsed,  the  sudden  and 
most  unaccountable  escape  of  the  little 
Union  party  was  quite  forgotten. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

STUART'  8      EA  ID  . 

The  most  exciting  portion  of  Stuart's  raid 
now  begun. 

From  the  moment  he  left  Old  Church  it 
was  neck  or  nothing — do  or  di^.  He  had  one 
chance  of  escape  against  ten  of  capture  or 
destruction. 

The  rebel  general  had  decided  upon  his 
course  with  that  rapidity,  good  judgment 
and  decision,  which  were  the  real  secrets  of 
his  splendid  efflciency  as  a  leader  of  cavalry 
—in  which  capacity,  it  is  safe  to  say,  he  has 
seldom  been  surpassed,  either  in  the  late 
war,  or  any  other. 

He  was  now  in  the  very  heart  of  the  coun- 
try controlled  by  the  Federals,  with  theii^ 
enormous  masses  upon  every  side. 

He  had  driven  in  their  advanced  force,  as 
we  have  seen,  passed  within  sight  of  the 
white  tents  of  General  McClellan's  head- 
quarters, burned  their  camps,  and  ascertain- 
ed all  that  he  wished  to  know. 

How  was  he  to  return 


He  could  not  cross 
make  a  circuit  ba 
He  could  not  returi 
he  had  advanced 
proved,  the  alarm 


le  Pamunkey,  and 
e  had  no  ])ontoons, 
the  niiile  by  which 
eicni-    afterward 

Tell   L'i\en,  and  an 
Iry,  and 


powering  force  of  iiiiaii 
artillery  had  been  rapidly  moved  iu  that  di- 
rection to  intercept  the  daring  raider. 

Capture  stared  him  iu  the  face,  on  both 
these  routes— across  the  Pamunkey,  or  back 
as  he  came ;  he  must,  then,  find  some  other 
loophole  of  escape. 

Such  was  the  dangerous  posture  of  affairs, 
and  such  was  the  important  problem  which 
Stuart  decided  in  five  minutes.  He  deter- 
mined, as  we  have  already  said,  to  make  the 
complete  circuit  of  McClellan's  army ;  and, 
crossing  the  Chickahominy  Ijelow  Long 
Bridge,  re-enter  the  Confederate  lines  from 
Charles  City.  It  on  his  way  he  encountered 
cavalry  he  intended  to  fight  it;  if  a  heavy 
force  of  infantry  barred  his  way  he  would 
elude,  or,  if  possible,  cut  a  path  through  it; 
if  driven  to  the  wall  and  debarred  from  es- 
cape he  did  not  mean  to  surrender. 

From  Old  Church  onward  it  was  ixtcrra 
incognita.  What  force  of  the  Federals  held 
the  road  was  a  question  of  the  utmost  inter- 
est, but  adventure  of  some  description  might 
be  safely  counted  on— tliat  all  understood. 

At  a  steady  trot,  with  drawn  sabers  and 
carbines  ready,  the  cavalry,  followed  by  the 
horse-artillery,  approached  Tunstall's  Sta- 
tion on  the  York  River  Railroad,  the  Fed- 
erals' direct  line  of  communication  with 
their  base  of  supplies  at  the  White  House. 

Everywhere  the  ride  was  crowded  with  in- 
cident. 

The  scouting  and  fianking  parties  constant- 
ly picked  up  stragglers,  and  overhauled  un- 
suspecting wagons  filled  with  the  most 
tempting  stores. 

In  this  manner,  a  wagon,  stocked  with 
champagne  and  every  variety  of  wines,  be- 
longing to  a  general  of  the  Union  army  fell 
a  prey  to  the  ever-thirsty  graycoats. 

Still  they  pressed  on. 

Every  moment  an  attack  was  expected  iu 
front  or  rear.  Colonel  Martin  commanded 
the  latter. 

"Tell  Colonel    Martin,"    ordered    Stuart, 


"to  have  his  artillery  ready,  and  look  out 
for  an  attack  at  any  moment." 

Hardly  had  the  message  been  delivered, 
when  a  loud  cry  arose : 

"Yankees  in  the  rear !— Yau':ees  in  the 
rear!" 

Every  saber  flashed  ;  fourc  were  formed, 
the  men  wheeled  about,  when,  all  at  once,  a 
stunning  roar  of  laughter  ran  along  the  line. 
It  was  a  canaid  ! 

The  column  moved  up  again  with  its 
flanking  parties  well  out.  The  men  compos- 
ing the  latter  were,  many  of  them,  from  the 
region,  and  for  the  first  time  formonths  saw 
their  mothers  and  sisters. 

These  went  quite  wild  at  sight  of  their 
sons  and  brothers.  They  laughed  and  cried, 
and  on  the  appearance  of  the  long  gray  col- 
umn instead  of  the  familiar  bluecoats  of  the 
Federal  eavaliy,  they  clapped  their  hands. 
and  fell  intii  eesiasies  of  delight.  Oneyoung 
lady  ivas  seen  Id  throw  her  arms  around  a 
bioUief  .-.he  had  not  before  met  for  a  long 
time,  buisiiug  into  alternate  sobs  and  laugh- 

The  column  was  now  skirting  the  Pamun- 
key, and  a  detachment  hurried  off  to  seize 
and  burn  two  or  three  transports  lying  iu 
the  river. 

Soon  a  dense  cloud  rose  from  tliem  ;  the 
flames  soared  up,  and  the  column  pushed 


had  been  hastily  thrown. 


lay 


ates  were  approaching  Tunstall's  where, 
doubtless,  they  woula  make  a  charge;  and 
to  load  down  their  weary  horses  they  knew 
was  injudicious. 

The  advance-guard  was  now  in  sight  of  tie 
railroad. 

There  was  no  question  about  the  affair  be- 
fore them.  The  column  must  cut  through, 
whatever  force  guarded  the  road  ;  to  reach 
the  lower  Chickahominy  the  guard  here 
must  be  overpowered. 

Now  ^  as  the  time  to  use  the  artillery,  and 
every  effort  was  made  to  hurry  it  forward; 
but,  alas!  it  had  got  into  a  tremendous  mud- 
hole,  and  the  wheels  were  buried  up  to  the 
axle. 

The  horses  were  lashed,  and  jumped,  al- 
most breaking  the  traces;  the  drivers  swore, 
the  harness  cracked ;  but  the  guns  did  not 
move. 

"Mine  Got  in  Himmel!  lieutenant,"  said 
a  sergeant  of  Dutch  origin  to  Lieutenant 
McGregor,  "  it  don't  vos  can  pe  done.  Put 
shust  you  put  dot  keg  ov  vhisky  on  dot 
gun,"  pointing,  as  he  spoke,  to  a  keg  of  liq- 
uor in  an  ambulance,  the  spoil  of  the  Fed- 
eral camp,  "  und  dell  de  poys  they  can  hafe 
it  if  they  only  pull  through,  und  you  vlU  see 
vat  will  happens!" 

McGregor  laughed,  and  the  keg  was  quick- 
ly perched  on  the  gun. 

Then  leek  place  an  exhibition  of  herculean 
iiiu-rulai  ity  which    would    have    delighted 


ed  into  the 
mud-hole  up  to  their  knees,  seized  the  wheels 
of  gun  and  caisson  loatled  down  witli  ammu- 
nition, and  just  simply  lifted  the  whole  out 
and  put  them  on  Ui  ni  ground. 

The  piece  whirled  on— the  keg  had  been 
dismouuted,  and  the  cannoneers  reveled  iu 
the  spoils  they  had  earned. 

Tunstall's  was  now  nearly  in  sight,  and  an 
officer  of  the  advance  guard  came  back  and 
reported  one  or  two  companies  of  infantry 
at  the  railroad. 

Their  commander,  he  said,  had  politelv 
beckoned  to  him  as  he  reconnoitered,  ex"- 
claiming,  in  wheedling  accents,  full  of  Teu- 
tonic blandishment : 

"Koom  yay!" 

But  this  cordial  invitation  was  disre- 
garded. 

Then  the  voice  of  Stuart  rang  out ; 

"  Form  platoons !  draw  sabers !— charge!'' 

At  the  command,  the  sabers  flashed,  a 
thundering  shout  arose,  and,  sweeping  on 
in  column  of  platoons,  the  gray  horsemen 
fall  upon  their  blue  adversaries,  gobbling 
them  up,  almost  without  a  shot. 

The  men  swarmed  u]ion  the  railroad. 

Axes  were  quickly  applied  to  the  telegraph 
poles,  which  went  crashing  down,  and  a  de- 
tachment was  sent  to  burn  a  small  bridge  on 
the  railroad  near. 

Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  the  tumult,  was 
heard  the  shrill  whistle  of  a  train  coming 
from  the  direction  of  the  Chickahominy. 

Stuart  quickly  drew  up  his  men  in  a  line 
on  the  side  of  the  road,  and  he  had  no  sooner 


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THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


done  so  than  the  train  came  slowly  round  a 
wooded  bend  and  bore  down. 

When  within  two  hundred  yards,  it  was 
ordered  to  halt ;  but  the  command  was  not 
obeyed. 

The  eneiueer  crowded  on  all  ste.am— the 
train  rushed  on;  and  then  a  thundering  vol- 
ley was  opened  upon  the  '•  fiats  "  containing 
efflcers  and  men. 

The  engineer  was  shot  by  one  of  Stuart  s 
staft-otBcers,  and  a  number  of  soldiers  were 
wounded.  . 

The  rest  threw  themselves  upon  their 
faces;  the  train  rushed  headlong  by,  like 
some  frightened  monster  bent  upon  escape, 
and,  in  an  instant,  it  had  disappeared. 

Stuart  now  reflected  for  a  moment. 

The  question  was,  should  he  go  back  and 
attack  the  White  House,  where  enormous 
stores  were  piled  up,  oruot? 

It  was  tempting;  but  a  considerable  force 
of  infautrv  was  posted  there ;  the  firing  had 
doubtless  "given  them  the  alarm,  and  the  at- 
tempt was  too  hazardous. 

The  best  thing  for  that  gray  column  was 
to  set  their    faces    toward    home,  and    keep 
moving,  well  closed  up,  both  night  and  day, 
for  the  Chickahorainy. 
:>VlSo  Stuart  pushed  on. 


CHAPTER  Xin. 

IN     A     TIGHT     PLACE. 

^ the  railroad  the  Confederate  raid- 
ers came  upon  a  world  of  wagons,  loaded 
with  grain  and  coffee,  standing  m  the  road, 
abandoned. 

Quick  work  was  made  of  them.  They  were 
all  set  on  fire  and  their  contents  destroyed. 

These  wagons,  however,  were  only  the 
oi'aiit-coHreurs— the  advance  guard— of  the 
main  body.  In  a  field  beyond  the  stream 
thirtv  acres  were  covered  with  them  ! 

They  were  all  burned  by  these  destroying 
"angels"  in  gray. 

The  roar  of  the  soaring  flames  was  like  the 
sound  of  a  forest  on  flre.  How  they  roared 
and  crackled!  The  sky  overhead,  when 
night  had  descended,  was  bloody-looking  in 
the  glare. 

Meanwhile  the  main  column  had  moved 


"  Who  is  here?" 

"  I  am,"  responded  one  of  his  staff,  whose 
voice  he  recognized. 

"Good!"  he  exclaimed.  "Where  is  Col- 
onel Lee?" 

"  I  think  he  has  moved  on,  general." 

"  Do  you  know  it  "  came  in  the  same  agi- 
tated tone. 

"No;  but  I  believe  it." 

"  Will  you  swear  to  it?  I  must  know!  He 
may  take  the  wrong  road,  and  the  column 
will  get  separated." 

"  I  will  ascertain  if  he  is  in  front,"  said  the 
staff  ofBcer. 

"  Well,  do  so ;  but  take  care— you  will  get 
captured." 

"Never  fear,  general;"  and  the  officer 
started  on  ah  ead. 

He  had  not  gone  two  hundred  yards  in  the 
darkness  when  hoof-strokes  in  front  were 
heard. 

"Halt!    Who  goes  there?"  he  cried. 

"  Courier— from  Colonel  Lee,"  was  the  an- 
swer. 

"Is  he  in  front?" 

"About  a  mile,  sir." 

"Good!"  exclaimed  the  voice  of  Stuart, 
who  had  galloped  up ;  and  the  accent  was 
one  of  intense  relief. 

If  the  reader  has  ever  commanded  cav- 
alry, or  been  connected  with  a  body  moving 
at  night  in  an  enemy's  country,  he  will  easi- 
ly understand  why  Stuart  drew  that  long, 
deep  breath,  and  uttered  that  single  word, 
"Good!"  Once  separated  from  the  main 
column,  and  lost— good-by  then  to  Colonel 
Lee. 

"  Now  my  mind's  relieved  on  this  score," 
said  the  general  to  his  aid,  "there's  another 
matter:  has  anything  been  heard  of  Lieu- 
tenant Fenton  Dunbar  and  his  detach- 
ment ?" 

"They  joined  the  main  body  more  than  an 
hour  ago,  general." 

"  That's  splendid  news.  Did  he  meet  with 
any  losses?" 

"  Never  lost  a  man." 

"  Better  and  better.  Now  let  us  advance 
in  dead  earnest." 

Pushing  on  by  large  aospitals,  which,  be 
it  said  to  their  praise,  were  not  interfered 
with,  they  reached  at  midnight  the  three  or 
four  houses  known  as  Talleysville ,  and  here 
a  halt  was  ordered  to  rest  men  and  horses, 
and  permit  the  artillery  to  come  up. 


r's  store, 
F  Stuart's 
the  place 


This  pause  was  t.ntal 
from  which  the  owner  1 
officers  proudly  boastc.i 

was  remorselessly  r;iiis;i(kcMl,  and  the  edi- 
bles consumed,  he  liiin^i'lf  iMt  in  succession 
tigs,  beef-tongue,  pickles,  candy,  tomato 
catsup,  preserves,  lemons,  cake,  sausages, 
molasses,  crackers,  and  canned  meats. 

In  the  presence  of  these  attractive  com- 
modities the  spirits  of  many  rose.  Those 
who  in  the  morning  had  said  :  "  Stuart  is  go- 
ing to  get  his  command  wiped  out — this 
movement  is  madness,"  now  regarded  him 
as  the  first  of  men— and  the  raid  as  a  feat  of 
splendor  and  judicious  daring,  which  con'  1 
not  fail  in  terminating  successfully. 

Behold !  such  is  the  difference  in  the  views 
of  the  military  machine,  unfed  and  fed. 

In  an  hour  the  column  moved  again.  They 
were  now  on  the  road  to  Forge  Bridge. 

The  highway  lay  before  them,  white  in 
the  unclouded  splendor  of  the  moon. 

The  critical  moment  was  yet  to  come. 

Their  safety  was  to  turn  apparently  on  a 
throw  of  the  dice,  rattled  in  the  hand  of 
chance. 

The  exhaustion  of  the  march  now  began 
to  tell  on  the  men.  Whole  companies  went 
to  sleep  in  the  saddle,  and  even  Stuart  him- 
self was  no  exception. 

He  had  thrown  one  kmee  over  the  pommel 
of  his  saddle,  folded  his  arms,  dropped  the 
bridle,  and,  chin  on  breast,  his  plumed  hat 
dropping  over  his  face,  was  sound  asleep. 

His  sure-footed  horse  moved  steadily,  but 
the  form  of  the  general  tottered  from  side 
to  side,  and  for  miles  one  of  his  staff  held 
him  erect  by  the  arm. 

The  column  thus  moved  on  during  the  re- 
mainder of  the  night,  the  wary  advance 
guard  encountering  no  enemies,  and  giving 
no  alarm. 

At  the  first  streak  of  dawn  the  Chicka- 
hominy  was  in  sight,  and  Stuart  was  spur- 
ring forward  to  the  ford. 

It  was  impassible! 

The  heavy  rains  had  so  swollen  the  waters 
that  the  crossing  was  utterly  impracti- 
cable ! 

Here,  then,  were  the  Confederate  raiders 
within  a  few  miles  of  McClellan's  army,  with 
an  enraged  enemy  rushing  on  their  track,  to 
make  them  rue  the  day  they  had  circum- 
vented them,  and  inflicted  on  them  such 
injury  and  insult.  Here  thev  were  with  a 
swollen  and  impassible  stream  directly  in 
their  front,  the  angry  waters  roaring  around 
the  half-submerged  trunks  of  the  trees,  and 


Federal's  approach. 

The  situation  was  not  pleasing. 

All  felt  that  the  enemy  would  be  upon 
them  in  less  than  an  hour,  and  death  or  cap- 
ture would  be  the  sure  alternative. 

Hope  was  almost  gone. 

Some  attempted  to  swim  their  horses  over 
the  river,  but  both  they  and  their  cattle 
were  nearly  drowned  among  the  tangled 
roots  and  snags. 

"  Colonel,  what  do  you  think  of  the  situa- 
tion at  this  moment  ?"  asked  an  offioer  of 
Colonel  Let 

"Well,  captain,"  was  the  reply,  in  the 
spt-iiker's  habitual  toneof  courtesy,  "  I  think 
we  are  caught." 

"That's  about  the  way  to  put  it,"  mut- 
tered those  standing  near. 

The  scene  upon  the  river's  bank  was 
curious,  and  under  other  circumstances 
would  have  been  laughable. 

The  men  lay  about  in  every  attitude,  half 
overcome   with     sleep,    but   holding    th(  ' 
bridles,    and    ready    to    mount  at  th 
alarm. 

Others  sat  on  their  horses  asleep,  with 
drooping  shoulders.  Some  gnawed  crack- 
ers; others  eat  figs,  or  smoked  or  yawned. 

Things  looked  blue;  and  that  color 


first 


figuratively  spread  over  every  countenance. 

There  was  only  one  man  who  never  de- 
sponded or  lost  hope.  That  was  Stuart.  He 
had  never  been  in  such  a  tight  place  before ; 
but  he  seemed  to  rise  under  the  great  pres- 
sure. 

He  was  thoroughly  aroused— strung  for 
the  hard  struggle  before  him,  and  resolved 
to  do  or  die ;  but  he  was  not  excited. 

All  that  was  noticed  in  his  bearing  to  at- 
tract attention  was  a  peculiar  fashion  of 
twisting  his  beard— certain  proof  with  him 
of  surrounding  peril;  otherwise  he  was  cool, 
and  looked  dangerous. 

He  said  a  few  words  to  Colonel  Lee,  found 
the  ford  impassible,  and  then,  ordering  his 
column  to  move  on,  galloped  down  the 
stream  to  a  spot  where  an  old  bridge  had 
fo'rmerly  stood. 

Reaching  this  point,  a  strong  rear-feuai-d 
was   thrown    out,    the   artillery    placed    in 


but  the  stone  abutmeuts  remained,  S9me 
thirty  or  forty  feet  only  apart ;  for  the  river 
here  ran  deep  and  narrow  between  deep 
banks. 

Between  these  stone  sentinels,  facing  each 
other,  was  an  aching  void,  which  it  was  nec- 
essary to  fill. 

Stuart  gave  his  personal  superintendence 
to  the  work;  he  and  his  staff  laboring  with 
the  men. 

A  skiff  was  procured.  This  was  affixed  by 
a  rope  to  a  tree  in  the  mid-current  above 
the  abutments;  and  thus  a  movable  pier 
was  secured  in  the  middle  of  the  stream. 

An  old  barn  was  then  hastily  torn  to  pieces, 
and  robbed  of  its  timbers.  These  were 
stretched  down  to  the  boat  and  up  to  the 
opposite  abutment,  and  a  foot-bridge  was 
thus  ready. 

Large  numbers  of  the  men  immediately 
unsaddled  their  horses,  took  theii'  equip- 
ments over;  and  then,  returning,  drove  or 
rode  their  horses  into  the  stream,  and  swam 
them  over. 

In  this  manner  a  considerable  number 
crossed;  but  the  process  was  much  too 
slow. 

There,  besides,  was  the  artillery,  which 
Stuart  had  no  intention  of  leaviug. 

A  regular  bridge  must  be  built  without  a 
moment's  delay,  and  to  this  work  the  Con- 
federate leader  now  applied  himself  with 
ardor. 

Heavier  blows  resounded    from   the   old 


boat,  anchored  in  the  middle  of  the  stream, 
the  men  lifted  them  across. 

They  were  just  long  enough;  the  ends 
rested  on  the  abutments,  and  immediately 
thick  jjlanks  were  hurried  forward  and  laid 
crosswise,  forming  a  secure  footway  for  the 
cavalry  and  artillery  horses. 

Standing  in  the  boat  beneath,  Stuart 
worked  with  the  men ;  and,  as  the  planks 
thundered  down,  and  the  bridge  steadily 
advanced,  the  voice  of  the  general  was 
heard  humming  a  song. 

He  was  singing  carelessly,  although  at 
every  instant  an  overpowering  force  of  the 
enemy  was  looked  for,  and  a  heavy  attack 
upon  the  disordered  cavalry. 

At  last  the  bridge  was  finished  ;  the  artil- 
lery crossed  amid  hurrahs  from  the  men, 
and  then  Stuart  slowly  moved  his  cavalry 
across  the  shaky  footway. 

A  little  beyond  was  another  arm  of  the 
river,  which  was,  however,  fordable;  the 
water  being  just  deep  enough  to  swim  a 
small  horse;  and  through  this,  as  through 
the  interminable  sloughs  of  the  swamp 
beyond,  the  head  of  the  column  moved. 

The  prisoners,  who  were  numerous,  had 
been  marched  over  in  advance  of  every- 
thing, and  these  were  now  mounted  on 
mules,  of  which  several  hundred  had  been 
cut  from  the  captured  wagons  and  brought 
along. 

They  were  started  under  an  escort  across 
the  ford,  and  into  the  swamp  beyond. 

Here,  mounted  often  two  on  a  mule,  they 
had  a  disagreeable  time;  the  mules  con- 
stantly falling  in  the  treacherous  mud-holes, 
and  rolling  their  riders  in  the  ooze. 

When  a  third  swamp  appeared  before 
them,  one  of  the  Yankee  prisoners  exclaim- 
ed, with  tremendous  indignation  : 

"  How  many  chicken-hominies  are  there, 
I  wonder,  in  this  infernal  country !" 

The  rear-guard,  under  Colonel  Lee,  had, 
meanwhile,  moved  steadily  from  the  high 
ground,  and  defiled  across  the  bridge. 

The  hoofs  clattered  on  the  hasty  structure, 
the  head  of  the  column  was  turned  toward 
the  ford  beyond,  the  last  squadron  had  just 
passed,  and  the  bridge  was  being  destroyed, 
when  shots  resounded  on  the  opposite  bank 
of  the  stream,  and  Burnbam's  cavalry,  to- 
gether with  Colonel  Rush  and  his  far- 
famed  lancers,  came  thundering  down  to 
the  bank. 

They  were  exactly  ten  minutes  too 
late! 

Stuart  was  over  with  his  artillery,  and  the 
swollen  stream  barred  the  way. 

The  Confederates  had  won  the  race. 

The  disappointed  Federals  banged  away 
at  Colonel  Lee  and  his  rear-guard,  and  a 
parting  salute  whizzed  through  the  trees  as 
the  long  gray  column  slowly  disappeared. 

CHAPTER  Xir. 

OBIT  AND  HIS  COXFEDER-\TES. 

Captain  Fletcher  Buruham  was  at  his  new 
quarters,   impatiently  awaiting  the  arrival 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


^  M  I 


13 


There  was  a  look  of  care,  disappointment 
and  annoyance  on  his  brow. 

At  length  there  was  the  sound  of  hastily 
approaching  footsteps  without;  and,  too 
impatient  to  wait,  he  at  once  sprung  to  the 
entrance  to  receive  his  expected  visitor. 

Ah!"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  of  relief,  as 
the  person  drew  near,  "you  have  come  at 
last.  Grit— I  am  very  glad  to  see  you." 

"  Yes,  captain,  I  am  here,"  rejoined  the 
scout,  calmly;  "I  came  as  I  received  your 
'message." 

"Well,"  said  Burnham,  after  a  moment's 
pause,  "  was  ever  any  one's  plans  so 
thoroughly  upset  as  mine  have  been  ?  From 
■the  moment  that  impudent  raider  started 
from  the  vicinity  of  Taylorsville,  till  he  dis- 
appeared again  in  the  Chicljahomiuy 
swamps,  I  was  on  his  track ;  and  yet,  what 
came  of  it?  He  has  got  off  almost  scot-free 
—actually  lost,  as  I  urn  informed,  only  one 
man,  Lataue,  wLiie  I  have  lost  nearly  half 
a  dozen  from  my  own  company.  Grit,  I 
cannot  tamely  submit  to  this  defeat— this 
upsetting  of  all  my  plaus.  What  is  to  be 
done'/" 

"  Find  out  what  his  next  move  is  to  be, 
captain,  and  depend  on  some  one  else  besides 
MoClellan  to  give  you  assistance,"  answered 
the  scout. 

Fletcher  Burnham  looked  at  the  speaker 


"  I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  that  man — 
McClellan.  Had  Hancock,  or  any  of  a  dozen 
other  generals  1  could  name,  been  in  com- 
mand of  this  maguiflcent  army,  Stuart 
never  would  have  got  back  to  the  Confeder- 
ate lines  alive— ah!  and  for  that  matter,  we 
would  have  lieen  in  possession  of  Richmond 
just  eighteen  days  ago— that  is,  directly  after 
the  victory  at  Seven  Pines." 

"I  believe  you,  Grit,"  said  the  captain; 
"  but  you  know  we  mustn't  say  such  things 
aloud." 

"  But  I  tell  you.  Captain  Burnham,  I  am 
getting  out  of  all  manner  of  patience  with 
the  way  this  campaign  is  conducted,  and  I 
am  not  the  only  cue  either." 

"  We  must  submit  to  the  powers  that  be, 
for  all  that.  Grit,"  said  the  officer;  "andnow 
tell  me,  how  do  you  expect  to  hud  out  what 
Lee's  and  Stuart's  next  moves  will  be?" 

"I  have  thought  of  that,"  said  Grit.  "I 
shall  go  into  their  lines  again." 

"Alone?" 

"  No ;  if  I  can  arrange  the  matter,  I  want 
to  take  three  men  with  me." 

"  Who  are  they?" 

"  Sid  Newton,  of  your  command,  and 
Charley  Clayton  and  Tom  Merret  of  Royal's 
company." 

"That  can  be  arranged.  When  do  you 
wish  to  start?" 

"  Early  this  evening." 

"  But  Newton — he  was  wounded  the  other 
day— is  he  fit  for  such  an  expedition  ?" 

"  Yes,  he  seems  to  lie  pretty  much  all  right, 
and  is  mighty  anxious  to  start  out  with  me, 
I  can  tell  you." 

"  Well,  I'll  give  you  a  line  to  Royal,  or 
whoever's  in  command  of  his  company.  By 
the  way,  how  is  he  getting  along?" 

"  Very  well,  I  hear.  " 

"I'm  glad  to  know  il,"  then  after  some 
moments  spent  iu  writing— "  well,  here's 
"he*  will  give  you  the  two  men  you  want. 
And  now,  as  I  may  not  see  you  again  before 
you  start— good-by ;  and  be  sure  to  let  me 
hear  from  you  as  soon  as  you  have  anything 
of  importance  to  report." 

"Certainly,  captain— good-by,"  and  the 
scout  quietly  withdrew. 

Early  that  same  eveuing.Grit  and  the  three 
men,  for  whom  he  had  taken  a  strong  liking, 
started  out. 

Thanks  to  the  scout's  consummate  knowl- 
edge of  the  country,  they  penetrated  the 
Confederate  lines,  scouted  all  through  the 
country  about  Richmond,  learned  all  they 
had  undertaken  to  find  out,  met  with  in- 
numerable adventures  and  many  hair- 
breadth escapes,  and  at  last  at  the  end  of 
nine  days,  started  on  their  return  toward  the 
Union  lines. 

For  some  time  they  traveled  on  without 
incident.  At  length,  while  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  New  Bridge  Road,  they  heard  that  a 
party  of  the  enemy  were  then  at  the  Chim- 
neys, with  their  pickets  in  front,  and  that 
they  were  going  to  make  an  expedition  to- 
ward Goldings,  where  the  Federals  had  a 
picket  post. 

They  at  once  resolved  to  waylay  the  party, 
whatever  its  strength  might  be,  their  inten- 
tion being  to  attack  it  from  the  woods  on 
the  side  of  the  road;  then,  during  the  con- 
in  the      ' 


—hot  for  a  light- and  he  knew  he  could  de- 
pend upon  his  companions,  every  one  of 
them. 

So  they  set  out  toward  the  Chimneys,  and 
when  within  a  mile  or  so  of  the  rebel  pickets 
on  the  other  side,  took  post  in  the  woods 
where  the  road  suddenly  descended  between 
high  banks,  and  gave  them  an  excellent  op- 
portunity to  ambush  the  graycoats  as  they 
approached. 

•rhey  waited  two  or  three  hours,  and  still 
there  was  no  sign  of  an  enemy.  Then,  tis 
night  had  come,  they  concluded  to  give  it  up 
for  the  day,  and  go  across  to  the  home  of  a 
good  Union  man,  with  whom  Grit  was 
acquainted,  and  get  supper  and  lodging. 

They  weut  accordingly,  and  had  a  good 
supper,  telling  their  host  to  get  ready  a  hot 
cup  of  coffee  at  daylight,  when  they  would 
try  again. 

Soon  after  daybreak  they  left  him  in  high 
spirits,  and  made  for  the  main  road  again. 

They  had  just  drawn  near,  in  the  field, 
when  they  saw  the  head  of  a  squadron  of 
Confederate  cavalry,  coming  from  the  direc- 
of  the  Goldings. 


I  ten  or  twelve 

forest 
passe 
the  evening  before;  but  this  was  impossible. 
The  enemy  were  so  close  upon  them  that  if 
they  started  to  run  they  would  certainly 
see  them— and  the  pine  forest  was  more 
than  half  a  mile  off. 

The  only  thing  they  could  think  of  was  to 
take  advantage  of  a  rise  in  the  ground,  cross 
the  road,  and  get  in  some  pine  bushes- 
short  second  growth,  about  as  high  as  a 
man— where  they  determined  to  open  lire 
upon  them. 

Accordingly,  they  ran  across  as  hard  as 
they  could,  and  passing  by  a  small  house,  got 
in  the  bushes.  "The  enemy  were  coming  on 
rapidly,  and  they  held  a  hurried  council  of 
war. 

"  What  do  you  say.  Grit,"  asked  Charley 
Clayton;  "  are  we  to  let  'em  have  it? 
They're  a  pretty  strong  force,  you  know." 

"  Let  me  hear  what  the  rest  of  you  have 
to  say  first,"  rejoined  the  scout.  "What's 
your  idea,  Tom?" 

"I  tell  you  ..hat,  boys,"  exclaimed  Tom, 
quickly,  "  it  won't  do  for  us  to  let  them  get 
by  without  doing  them  some  damage.  They 
have  been  up  there  robljing  and  plundering, 
and  making  prisoners  of  our  men,  and,  I  for 
one,  intend  to  fire  into  them." 

"  Ah  !  and  what  say  you,  Newton  ?" 

"  I  think  I  can  settle  this  question,"  said 
Sid  Newton,  quietly. 

"  As  how  ?"  asked  the  scout,  wonderingly . 

"  I  recognized  two  men  in  the  squadron." 

"  Who  are  they?"  asked  Grit,  his  face  in- 
stantly becoming  pale  with  emotion. 

"  The  lieutenant  and  one  of  the  men  who 


there  were  others  of  the  party.' 

"We  stay  here — at  least  I  do,"  said  the 
scout,  hoarsely.  "I  shall  fight,  and  die  if 
necessary.  But  we  can  get  off.  They  will 
think  we  are  a  heavy  force  sent  to  ambush 
them  ;  and  in  the  confusion  we  can  get  into 
the  big  pines  below,  where  they  never  can 
catch  us— trust  me  for  that." 

Tom  Merrett  instantly  declared  that  he 
would  stand  by  Grit  as  long  as  he  could 
keep  upon  his  pins. 

Newton  said  that  had  been  his  intention 
from  the  moment  he  recognized  those  who 
had  taken  part  in  the  murder  of  Elmer  Car- 
roll. 

Charley  Clayton  was  not  slow  to  add  that 
he  could  be  counted  on  every  time— l)ut 
they  were  all  very  pale— very  pale  aud  anx- 

Brave  men  never  underestimate  the  dan- 
ger they  are  about  to  encounter. 

The  most  courageous  man  I  ever  knew 
trembled  like  an  aspen  leaf  while  marching 
up  to  a  battery  of  belching  cannon,  yet  he 
would  have  been  the  last  man  in  the  regi- 
ment to  even  think  of  turning  back. 

Such  is  true  courage. 


fusion,  to  make  their  escape 
if  necessary. 
Grit  was  at  the  time  iu  pretty  i 


ae  thicket. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


Grit  and  his  three  brave  comrades  no- 
looked  carefully  to  their  arms  aud  saw  that 
all  was  right. 

Beside  revolvers,  they  all  had  carbines,  ex- 
cept Newton,  who  carried  a  short  revolving 
rifle,  which  had  got  somewhat  clogged  up 
with  the  spermaceti  on  the  cartridges. 

He  worked  at  it,  and  got  it  in  order,  how- 
ever, and  then  said  he  was  ready. 


The  cavalry  had  now  got  within  twenty 
yards  of  them,  and  at  the  head  of  the  col- 
umn rode  a  colonel  well  known  to  Grit,  who 
was  surrounded  by  his  staff  officers.  The 
prisoners  were  in  the  rear. 

It  was  neither  the  colonel  nor  the  prison- 
ers Grit  wa.s  looking  out  for:  he  had  iu 
mind  a  certain  lieutenant,  and  a  villain  liy 
the  name  of  Langford,  as  well  as  some  half  a 
dozen  others. 

At  length  his  eyes  sparkled— emitted  fire, 
as  it  seemed  to  Newton— and  raising  his  car- 
bine as  though  he  had  found  a  mark  to  his 


fired  a  volley  which  at  once  threw  the  rebeli 


liking,  he  exclaimed : 
No-     "  "      ■ 

[la 
into  tremendous  confusion. 

The  young  lieutenant  who  had  liad  charge 
of  the  execution  of  poor  Elmer  Carroll,  and 

ho,  perhaps,  was  the  most  innocent  of  all 

ho  took  part  in  that  unholy  business, 
dropped  dead— a  major,  a  captain,  and  a 
private  also  fell. 

The  rebels  fairly  trembled  in  their  boots, 
and  turned  their  horses  to  run— thinking 
they  were  ambushed  by  the  greater  part  of 
the  Union  army. 

The  colonel  shouted,  "Steady!  steady, 
men!"  and  pushed  forward.  He  was  a  brave 
fellow,  but  two  of  the  little  party  were 
ready  for  him. 

As  he  got  within  five  yards  of  where  they 
were  they  fired.  The  skirt  of  his  coat  was 
torn  to  pieces,  bis  horse  was  killed,  and  he 
himself  fell,  mortally  wounded. 

As  he  fell,  some  of  the  officers,  whose 
horses  had  run  on  by  to  the  front,  came 
galloping  back  ;  and,  seeing  one  in  a  par- 
ticularly handsome  uniform,  witli  braid  on 
the  sleeves,  Grit  fired  and  shot  him  through 
the  body,  killing  him. 

They  might  easily  have  got  off  in  the  con- 
fusion now,  had  it  not  been  for  a  woman 
who  saw  them  when  they  were  scudding 
across  the  road. 

"  Oh !  they  are  only  four  men  !  They  are 
only  four  men,  I  tell  yer!"she  cried,  vin- 
diotively,  at  the  top  of  her  voice. 

The  enemy,  as  soon  as  they  heard  this, 
rallied,  and  threw  dismounted  men  into  the 
bushes  after  their  hidden  foe;  it  seemed  as 
if  they  were  down  and  in  the  pines  in  less 
than  a  minute. 

Sid  Newton  had  been  shot  through  the 
fleshy  part  of  the  left  arm,  and  Charley 
Clayton  had  been  slightly  wounded  in  the 
side. 

No  time  was  to  be  lost,  and  they  made  a 
break  for  the  big  pine  forest,  where  Grit  ex- 
pected to  be  able  to  escape. 

They  could  not  reach  it^the  flankers  com- 
ing in  and  cutting  them  off— and  soon  they 
found  that  they  were  completely  sur- 
rounded. 

Grit  got  separated  from  the  rest,  and  was 
running  about  trying  to  find  an  opening  to 
escape,  but  they  were  all  around  him.  He 
could  hear  their  angry  howls  as  they  closed 

"  Hi,  yi !  here  they  are,  bovs !  Bully  for 
us!  Give  it  to  'em!  Give  'em  blue  brim- 
stone and  death !" 

It  was  like  a  pack  of  famished  wolves. 

Grit  had  discharged  his  carbine,  and  all 
the  chambers  of  his  revolver  were  empty. 
He  had  stopped  under  a  sapling  to  reload. 

He  felt  at  that  moment  as  if  he  had  never 
been  so  miserable  in  all  his  life  before. 

He  had  that  feeling  of  desperation  which 
it  can  be  imagined  a  dog  has  when  he  is  run 
into  a  comer,  and  glares  up  and  snaps  at 

His  hand  did  not  tremble  a  particle,  how- 
ever, as  he  was  loading  his  revolver  and  car- 
bine, and  when  this  was  done  he  got  up  from 
the  ground. 

Half  a  dozen  of  the  enemy  were  closing 
right  around  him,  and  as  soon  as  they  saw 
him  they  fired,  and  he  returued  their  fire. 

He  could  not  find  an  opening  to  get  out. 
He  was  surrounded  upon  every  side,  and  he 
did  not  know  what  to  do. 

Every  moment  they  were  blazing  away  at 
him,  only  a  few  yards  off,  as  he  doubled 
about,  and  he  had  nine  balls  through  his 
clothes  and  the  cap  of  his  coat,  aud  one  in 
his  cap. 

At  last  he  got  into  an  open  space,  toward 
the  roaa,  and  saw  a  gap  in  the  fence  which 
only  one  cavalry  man  was  watching. 

"  Now's  my  chance,"  he  thought. 

He  made  a  rush  straight  at  him. 

He  had  kept  one  charge  iu  his  revolver, 
and  if  he  killed  the  cavalryman,  as  he 
thought  he  easily  might,  he  could  get  his 
horse,  and  then,  good-by  to  them ! 

As  he  ran  toward  him  the  rebel  trooper 
raised  his  carbine  and  fired  at  Grit,  but  the 
scout  did  not  mind  that.  He  was  up  to  him 
and    putting    his    revolver 


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THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


saddle. 

He  fell,  and  Grit  was  just  about  to  catch 
the  bridle,  when— there  was  a  rush,  and  a 
score  of  cavalrymen  rode  him  down,  one  of 
the  men  striking  him  across  the  head  with 
his  carbine. 

When  he  came  to  his  senses  Grit  was  lying 
on  his   face,  and   the   first  words  he  heard 

"Deal  as  a  mackerel,  by  Jove!" 

He  raised  his  head  a  little,  and  finding  he 
was  not  dead,  they  collared  him,  and  made 
him  stand  up,  hustling  him  about  from  side 
to  side,  and  cursing  at  him  till  the  air  smell- 
ed  of  brimstone. 

Grit  soon  got  tired  of  such  brutal  treat- 
ment, and  clutching  a  carbine  from  one  of 
thera,  attempted  to  club  it  f.nd  hit  right  and 
left,  but  tliey  got  it  away  from  him.  There 
was  one  fellow— a  bloodthirsty  brute  from 
Texas— with  a  cocked  pistol,  who  was  most 
enxious  to  get  at  him,  and  the  officers  around 
laughingly  exclaimed  : 

"Let  Texas  get  at  him!  he'll  soon  finish 
him!" 

"Just  put  me  out  in  the  field  there  with  a 
pistol,"  cried  Grit,  fiercely,  "  and  your  Tex- 
an or  any  of  you  can  tiy  me." 

They  buly  laughed  at  this,  and  hustled 
him  about  the  more,  as  they  did  poor  Sid 
Newton  and  Tom  Merrett  whom  they  had 
caught.     Charley  Clayton  had  got  away. 

Sid  Newton  had  lost  his  hat,  as  had  Grit 
also,  and  had  a  colored  cloth  wrapped  over 
his  head,  which  made  his  pale  cheeks  aud 
dark  eyes  look  like  a  girl's.  The  rebels 
laughed  at  this  resemblance,  and  said,  ad- 
dressing Sid,  while  they  pointed  at  Grit : 

"  We  know  now  who  you  are :  but  who  is 
that  fellow  yonder?  He  looks  independent 
enough  to  be  old  Ben  Butler  himself." 

But  Sid  did  not  answer,  so  they  didn't  find 
jut  just  then,  and  presently  the  three  pris- 
oners were  conveyed  to  the'Chimneys,  where 
they  were  lodged  together  in  a  front  room 
of  a  large   house   occupied    by  the   troops 


windows. 

For  some  time  they  were  left  to  them- 
selves. At  length,  about  eleven  o'clock,  a 
staff  officer  pushed  his  way  by  the  guard 
and  eutered  the  room. 

He  seemed  to  be  a  man  of  great  impor- 
tance, and  Grit  at  once  saw  that  he  had  come 
on  some  particular  mission,  therefore  hejwas 
on  his  guard. 

"  Well,  sir— hem  !"  he  exclaimed,  address- 
liivitly  to  Grit;  "you  young 
mt  ynnist'lvi's  into  a  bad  scrape 


feflov 


■■Nni  til  It  1  am  :nvai-.-,it,  >ir,"  replied  the 
scout,  .n-4ly.     Hmh  so,  1  li..g  tokuow?" 

"Wliy.  yuu  ,:inie  inside  of  our  lines  by 
night,  auil  «a>  laid  our  troops,  against  all 
the  u-aL-'s  of  I  ivilized  war,  sir." 

"1  wa- a  <ii.ut,   like  General  Stuart,"  re- 

"  A  scout !"  exclaimed  the  officer,  gi-owing 
red  iu  tlie  face.  "  General  Stuart  and  his 
command  were  on  no  seont,  sir!  they  were 
on  a  rpci.inioissaiicp.  sir-  with  a  force   of  flf- 

"  w '  I    .         :     I  'as  ever,  "  I  was 

onaM        ii  ,,  -    nil  a  force  of  three 

C!ivali\ 1.      \  can   pan  \  happened  to  come 

out.  and  wc  met  you   on    the  road,   and  my 
recoiiiioiteriug     party    got    the    better    of 

This  explanation  seemed  to  make  the  otfl- 
cer  furious.  He  swelled,  and  swaggered,  and 
])uffed  like  a  tiig  turkeycock,  aud  tried  to 
frown  Grit  down,  but  he  did  not  succeed. 

"  Well,  sir,"  he  said,  at  length,  "  it  you  did 
get  the  better  of  us,  you  are  our  prisoners 
now;  aud  there  are  grave  charges  against 
yon  all— very  grave  charges,  sir !" 

Grit  began  to  get  angry. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that,  sir?"  he  de- 
manded. 

"I  mean,"   cried  the   officer,    raising  his 


brother   of    mine — yes,    sir;    a   brother    of 
don't 


"Killed  a  brother  of  your 
tell  me  so?" 

"Yes,  sir;  but  I  do." 

"  Well,"  said  Giit,  carelessly,  "  all  I've  got 
to  say  is,  he  ought  to  have  kept  out  of  the 
way  of  our  bullets;  the  fact  is,  it's  dangerous 
being  around  when  we're  firing. 

"But  he  was  my  brother,  sir;  aud  you 
murdered  him,  sir." 

"Look  here,  sir,"  said  Grit,  between  his 
clinched  teeth;  "this  is  our  room  while  we 
remain  in  it,  and  if  you  can't  behave  your- 
self you've  got  to  get  out  of  it.     We  wish  to 


have  no  more  of  your  talk!  Do  you  under- 
stand?" 

"Oh!  well,  sir;  very  well,  sir!  but  you'll 
hoar  further  from  me,  I  promise  you." 

The  officer  swaggered  out. 

In  less  than  five  minutes  the  acting  major, 
an  oily  and  polite  little  fellow  of  about  forty 
or  forty-five,  made  his  appearance. 

"  This  is  a  most  unfortunate  affair,  gentle- 
men," he  began,  in  a  rather  sympathizing 
tone. 

"  Not  very,  I  guess,"  said  Grit. 

"I  fear  it  is,"  persisted  the  officer.  "You 
see,  you  were  taken  inside  our  lines,  and  it 
is  probable  you  will  be  treated  as  spies." 

"I  reckon  not,  sir.'' 

"Why,  sol  understand,  at  least.    Do  you 
often  enter  our  lines,  sir?" 
'  "  I,  at  least,  have  done  so  frequently,"  said 
Grit. 

"In  citizens'  dress,  ever?"  he  inquired; 
and  then  Grit  at  once  saw  what  he  was  after, 
and  was  on  his  guard. 

"  No,"  he  replied.  "I  come  with  my  arms 
to  make  a  military  reconuoissance." 

"  Do  your  people  enter  our  lines  in  this 
way  often,  sir?" 

"Well,"  said  the  scout,  "  tolerably  of  ten. 
Captain  Fletcher  Burnham  made  a"  reion- 
noissance,  or  scout,  a&  you  please,  up  beyond 
Taylorsville,  the  other  day,  with  a  fcpiadrou 
of  cavalry;  aud  General  Kilpatriuk  is  par- 
ticularly'fond  of  such  expeditions— indulg- 
ing in  them  frequently." 

The  officer  endeavored  to  make  Grip  com- 
mit himself  iu  several  other  ways,  but  find- 
ing at  last  that  he  could  not  succeed,  got  up 
and  left.  After  that  the  scout  told  the  sen- 
tinel that  they  didn't  want  to  see  any  more 
of  them,  and  taking  his  place  at  one  of  the 
windows,  gazed,  in  a  thoughtful  mood,  i^own 
the  road. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

ELLEN  WAYNE  BRINGS  A  EAY  OF  HOPE. 

All  at  once,  as  Grit  Carroll  continued  to 
gaze  down  the  road,  he  saw  a  cloud  of  dust 
arise,  which  seemed  to  draw  nearer  aud 
nearer,  then,  from  out  the  cloud,  he  beheld 
the  forms  of  horsemen  ;  and,  yes !  one — two 
horsewomen  emerging. 

He  looked  again,  and  watched  them 
closely. 

Suddenly,  as  they  drew  near,  he  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  profound  astonishment,  aud 
in  a  much  lower  tone,  the  name  of  Ellen 
Wayne  dropped  from  his  lips.  Then,  men- 
tally, he  added : 

"Yes;  it's  Ellen,  and  her  maiden  aunt, 
Lydia  Wayne,  with  her !  What  can  they  be 
coming  here  for?  Who  is  in  conrtnand  of 
their  escort?  Ah!  Lieutenant  Fenton  Dun- 
bar, as  I  live!" 

At  that  moment,  the  beautiful  Ellen 
Wayne,  happening  to  glance  toward  the 
window,  saw  and  recognized  him. 

She  uttered  a  hasty  exclamation  of  sur- 
prise, and  was  about  to  call  her  aunt's  at- 
tention to  him,  when  Grit  made  a  hurried 
and  peremptory  gesture  for  her  to  desist. 

She  complied  in  wonder,  and  her  face  as- 
sumed a  thoughtful  and  troubled  expres- 
sion, as  she  permitted  Lieutenant  Dunbar  to 
assist  her  from  her  horse. 

Grit,  whose  purpose  it  was  to  remain  un- 
known, on  seeing  that  Ellen  uuderstood  him, 
instantly  withdrew  from  the  \viii.l,.w,  in 
order  that  the  stately  Miss  bvilia  Vaviip 
might  not  catch  a  glimpse  i.t  him;  im  hr 
but  too  well  kuew  that,  aUliiiu;;li  she  was 
one  of  the  most  worthy  wometi  in  the  wojid, 
sill'  -Ha-a  Iriiti f  secessionist,  as.  at  the  time, 
ol.l  iiianl- 111  till-  iSouth  were  apt  to  be,  and 
that,  slaiiilcl  Aiv  recognize  him,  and  learn 
that  he  was  a  prisoner,  she  would  consider 
it  to  be  her  duty  to  announce  that  he  was  a 
native  Soutneruer- therefore,  a  renegade, 
and  perhaps,  even  worse— a  spy— as  his  cap- 
tors were  anxious  to  prove  him  to  be. 

Having  been  shown  into  a  room  by  them- 
selves, Ellen  quickly  said : 

"Oh,  auntie,  I  am  just  dying  for  a  drink  of 
water— my  throat,  I  verily  believe,  is  as  dry 
as  a  powder  magazine.  Don't  you  want  one 
too?" 

"indeed  I  do,  child,"  was  the  lady's  em- 
phatic reply. 

"Then  I'll  run  out  and  get  some,"  ex- 
claimed Ellen. 

"No— no,  stay  where  you  are,"  said  her 
aunt,  "  and  let  some  of  the  lazy  niggers 
bring  it.  Don't  you  go  out  there  and  mix 
up  with  all  those  common  soldiers." 

"  Oh,  auutie,  I  shan't  trouble  the  soldiers, 
and  I'm  not  at  all  afraid  of  their  troubling 
me,"  and  she  hastened  through  the  door- 

To  the  first  trooper  she  met,  who  happen- 


ed to  be  one  of  her  own  escort,  she  hurriedly 
said : 

"  Please  find  Lieutenat  Dunbar,  and  send 
him  to  me  at  once,  will  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  Miss  Wavne,"  was  the  ready  reply, 
and  he  liastcih-d  away,  delighted  to  be  of  the 
slightest  SI  iviie  to  Colonel  Wayne's  lovely 
daiightia. 

"Feiitnn  liniibar  was  not  long  iu  making 


'  "i  ou  sent  for  me.  Miss  Ellen  ■ 


; said. 


slight  blush;  "there  is  some  onein  that  front 
room  —  some  one  whom  I  must  see  in-  * 
stantly."  ' 

"  Why,  they  are  Y''ankee  prisoners!"  ex- 
claimed the  youuglieutenant,  at  a  loss  to  un- 
derstand her. 

"Yankee  prisoners!"  and  the  tone  iu 
which  she  uttered  the  words  betokened  her 
unbounded  astonishment. 

"  Yes ;  there  are  three  of  them." 

"And  all  belong  to  the  Y^ankee  army?" 

"  Yes;  and  worse  that  they  are  suspected 
of  being  spies.  At  all  events,  they  are  likely 
to  lie  hanged  at  daylight  to-morrow  ;  for, 
while  secreted  in  the  jiiiie  brush  some  miles 
below  here,  they  killed  Colonel  Ellis  and  half 
a  dozen  other  officers,  as  well  as  five  or  six 
men." 

"I  can't  understand  it,"  mused  Ellen; 
"and  yet  I  must  see  one  of  them  immedi- 
ately." 

"  Then  I  must  manage  it  for  you,"  said 
Fenton,  promptly,  and  with  a  low  bow  he 
hurried  away. 

Presently  he  returned. 

"Come,"  he  said,  "  you  can  go  in ;  but  let 
me  beg  of  you  not  to  stay  long." 

"Not  flveminutes,"  she  responded.  "But, 
meantime,  Fenton,  if  auntie  asks  for  me, 
please  make  some  plausible  excuse — that's  a 
dear  good  fellow." 

"  Y''ou  know  I  would  die  for  you,"  he 
whispered;  "and— here  we  are.  Guard,  let 
this  lady  jiass.  It's  by  order  of  the  lieuten- 
ant-colonel commanding." 

Grit  had  drawn  himself  up  close  to  the 
wall,  with  liis  ba<k  toward  the  door,  so  that 
Feuton  did  not  recognize — or,  indeed,  e^eu 
see  him. 

Ellen  entered  the  room. 

"Clinton,"  she  said,  in  a  sweet  but  distinct 
voice,  "  what  terrible  chance  has  brought 
this  fearful  misfortune  upon  you  ?" 

"  Ellen,"  responded  the  scout,  turning 
quickly  toward  her,  "  the  story  is  too  long 
and  not  of  enough  consequence  to  tell  now  ; 
but  I  am  glad  you  came  to  me,  for  I  have 
something  I  must  say  to  you." 

"  Then  you  are  really  iu  the  Federal  army? 
—you  have  really  deserted  the  cause  of  the 
South !"  she  asked,  sadly. 

"  No,"  was  the  reply,  "  because  I  never  es- 
poused the  cause  of  seccession.  I  have  al- 
ways been  a   Tniou   man.    Remember  this. 


not  like  a  great  many-^I  never 


Id^iem 


gr« 
When  yon  tell  Hilda  of   this  meet- 

iiot    loi'i;et   to  tell  her   that;  may 

\  e-,  iiiiieeii,  Clinton,  you  may." 
"Thank   Noli;  and  now  is  there  anything 
you  wi^li  to  ask  me?    I  think  there  is." 

"Oh,  (.'lintoij.  you  know  my  heart  is  very 
heavy  ;  you  know  I  w.sh  to  ask  about  Elmer. 
I  have  liot  heard  from  him  for  months,  and 
the  last  1  did  hear  was  that  he  had  been 
lakin  piisoiiei  by  the  Yankees." 

■■That  is  true:  and  through  my  influence 
he  was  sa\  eil  lidiii  I.eiiig  sent  to  a  Northern 
piison,  aial  v.  as  |ieiinitted  to  remain  with 
my  own  company.  And  now,  Ellen, can  you 
bear  to  hear  something  horrible  ?  I  know 
how  you  loved  that  dear  boy,  and  I  wish  to 
warn  you  beforehand  that  what  I  have  to 


as  pale  as  death  itself. 

"My  God!  is— is  he  dead  then?"  she 
gasped. 

"  Control  yourself,  Ellen,"  said  Grit,  hur- 
riedly ;  "  remember,  it  will  not  do  for  you  to 
give  way  now,  or  here.  Yes;  he  is  dead,  and, 
mark  you,  he  was  murdered— yes,  murdered 
—by  that  miserable  coward,  Lo'ren  Laugford, 
who,  thinking  that,  with  Elmer  out  of  the 
way,  be  would  stand  a  better  chance  with 
yon,  indiieed  General  Stuart  to  have  him 
hanged  as  a  deserter." 

"  Oh,  cruel— <^ruel  !"  moaned  poor  Ellen. 

"Cruel,  indeed,"  said  Gnt,  st.'riily  ;  "and 
now,  Ellen,  as  time  is  preiious,  I  must  say 
quickly  what  I  have  left  to  say  :  and,  first,  I 
want  you  to  promise — nay,  swear,  that  you 
will  never,  under  any  cireiimstanees,  marry 
that  villain,  Langford.    Do  you— will  you  ?" 

"Yes— yes!"  cried  the  girl;  "  I  do  swear 
it.  Indeed,  I  would  die  rather  than  marry 
him!" 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY 


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15 


ton  Dm 


it.  fcu-  I  caij  iissuie  you  lie  is 
a  gt'iiPiiMi'- Li  noM.'-lu'iu'ted  youug  mau, 
aud  lie  Idv.  s  \  Mil  n  ,11  uiid  truly." 

"I'liMs,' -ji:.  ;v-.  ,  (  liiitou,  do  not  talk  of 
love  foi- ;ni.nhii .  imw  ;  I  cannot  bear  it.  My 
poor  lieai  t  is  almost  liroken." 
.  "  I  uiiiirrstaiid,  dear;  but  you  will  think 
of  what  I  huvi- said,  l)vaud  by,  when  youare 
more  ealui  /    l']-omise"iue  that!" 

"  Yes— vts-1  will  try  to  think  of  it." 

"If  1  were  not  iu  this  miserable  plight," 
murmured  Grit,  "I  should  hope  to  fully 
arenge  poor  Elmer's  death.  As  it  is,  three 
of  tliose  who  had  a  hand  in  the  cowardly 
business  I  have  sent  to  their  final  accounts; 
but  the  chief  murd^-rers  still  cumber  the 
earth  !" 

"Clinton,  '  said  Ellen, suddenly,  "Fenton 
tells  me  you  are  all  sure  to  be  hung  at  day- 
light to-morrow." 

"  Ah !  is  that  so  ?  Does  he  know  I  am  one 
of  the  three  ?■■ 

"No;  he  doesn't  even  dream  of  such  a 
thing." 

'■  Tell  him  then  ;  it  maj-  be  he  can  do  some- 
thing for  me ;  but,  if  the  worst  comes  to  the 
worst,  when  you  see  your  cousin,  Hilda 
Mason,  say  to  her  that  my  love  was  unalr 
tered  to  the  last— as  my  principles  are— and 
that  I  died  wii  h  her  name  upon  my  litis." 

"Yes— res.  Clinton:  I  will  tell  her.    I " 

"  Miss  XVayiip,  yoar  aunt Good  Heav- 


bottoiu  of  Ui 

but  I  fear  the  worst.    The  officers  and 

of  the  regiment  here  are  very  bitter  against 

you!" 

"So  I  suppose,"  said  the  scout,  thought- 
fully. 

"  Fenton,"  whispered  Ellen,  "  can't  you 
help  them  in  some  way  ?" 

"  I  fear  not,"  said  the  young  lieutenant, 
slott-ly  shaking  his  head  ;  "  you  know  your 
father  expects  us  to-night.  His  regiment 
moves  fo-morrow,  and  he  may  not  get  an- 
other eliauce  to  see  you  for  some  time." 

"  But,  if  we  start  very  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, we  shall  be  in  time  to  see  my  father, 
and  then  couldn't  you  get  a  chance  to  help 
Clinton  and  these'poor  fellows  off  iu  the 
night?" 

"  I  fear  not ;  and  then,  what  excuse  have 
we  for  remaining  here  ?" 

"  Suppose  I  should  suddenly  be  taken  very 
ill?"  she  suggested,  slyly 


dear  Miss  Wayne,  come.  1  dare  not  remain 
here  a  moment  longer— especially,  if  we  are 
to  assist  them  to  escape.    And " 

"Ellen— Ellen  !"  at  that  moment  called  a 
shrill  and  impatient  voice  ;  then,  as  it  drew 
nearer:  •■Where,  in  lliis  blessed  world,  is 
that  tr.nil.les. line  ehiM  :-■' 

"Oh!  ileal,  tliafsaiintie.'-.xflaimed  Eden, 
in  consternation,  '•  ami,  it  we  don't  hurry, 
she'll  be  here  iu  search  of  us,"  and  the  two, 
without  ceremony,  liasteued  away. 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  'mECHANICSVILLE. 

Night  came. 

Grit  had  seen  no  more  of  either  Fenton 
Dunbar  or  Ellen  Wayne ;  but,  ns  he  was  cer- 
tain that  tliev  had  not  left  the  house,  ho  felt 
sure  they  were  still  tiriii  in  tlieii-  ,le|en,,i„a- 
tion  to  liel|,  him  and  Ins  eomiailes. 

everything' ready  for  instant  ilejiartnie  the 
moment  the  tune  should  come,  and  having 
disposed  of  the  scanty  sujiper  that  had  been 
brought  them,  they  set  themselves  to  wait 
foi'some  propitious  sign. 

At  eleven  o'clock  all  was  still  in  the  house, 
not  a  sound  was  heard  save,  now  and  then, 
the  humming  of  a  tune  by  the  sentinel,  as  he 
stood  in  the  doorway. 

The  man  outside  could  be  dimly  seen  lean- 
ing against  the  picket  fence ;  but,  as  there 
was  no  light  in  the  room,  he  could  not  see 
the  prisoners. 

Presently,  somewhat  to  Grit's  surprise,  a 
soldier  came  staggering  through  the  hall- 
way, with  a  canteen  iu  his  hand. 

"Here!"  exelaimed  the  sentinel,  gruffly, 
"  where  are  you  goiu^  !" 

"Dunno,"'was  the  concise  reply. 

"What  have  yon  got  there?''  was  the  next 
question. 

"  Little  ole  blue  ruin— that's  all,"  respond- 
ed the  seemingly  happy  warrior. 


"  Give  us  a  taste,"  said  the  sentinel,  reach- 
ing out  his  hand  ;  "  it's  mighty  tough  work 
standin'  here,  hour  after  hour,  without  a 
drop  o'  comfort  ter  wet  a  fellow's  whistle 
with." 

"  Jist  so,  comrade ;  take  a  hold  an'  take  a 
right  smart  pull,  too.  1  aiu't  no  ole  hog,  I 
ain't." 

The  sentinel  drew  the  st"Dper  and  placed 
the  canteen  to  his  lips. 

He  did  take  "a  right  smart  pull,"  and 
when  he  surrendered  the  canteen  to  its  own- 
er, it  was  with  a  profound  sigh  of  satisfac- 
tion. 

"  Here's  to  yer,"  said  the  Good  Samaritan, 
placing  the  nozzle  to  his  own  lips ;  but,  had 
it  been  lighter,  or  had  the  sentinel  paid  any 
attention,  he  might  have  noticed  that  his 
companion  didn't  swallow  much. 

"  Ah  !  '  he  <>xi'laiined,  taking  a  longbreath, 
"that's  ther  right  sort.  That  'ere  come  from 
ther  Yanks,  fur  sartin.  1  got  it  myself,  while 
I  was  with  Stuart,  on  his  giaud  raid.  Take 
ernuther  pull,  comrade;  'twon't  hurt  yer 
fur  a  cent." 

"  Well,  seein'  it's  you,  I  don't  mind  if  I  do," 
and  the  worthy  sentinel  nearly  pulled  the 
bottom  out  of  the  canteen. 

Yerv  little  was  now  said  for  some  time; 
botli  soMh  I  -  s(  enicci  to  be  retlecting  on  the 
great  niei  iis  el  (he  ■•  hlue  ruin." 

At  leii^Mh  ilie  sentinel  remarked,  some- 
what .iio\,.~ilv,  lliat"ther  infernal  stuff 
was  :iii  powerlul" — and  then,  leaning  up 
against  till' (looi -jamb,  he  gave  a  prolound 
sigh,  and  w.mlil  have  let  his  carbine  lall  had 
not  the  other  eau^dit  it. 

The  next  instant  the  overpowered  sentinel 
was  lying  at  his  length  upon  the  floor. 

"Quick!— quick!"  whispered  the  knight  of 
the  canteen;  "help  me  ter  git  him  inside 
thar;  an' don't  ye  make  a  breath  o' noise. 
That's  ther  ticket.  Now  then,  just  you  uns 
dig  out  o'  ther  back  door  lively.  Ye'll  find 
three  horses  an'  yer  lixin's  back  o'  ther 
brush  ahind  ther  stables.  Ther  horses  has 
got  their  hoofs  shoved   inter  stockins' made 


J  1st 


git  yerselves  inter  no  sich  er  fix  ez  this  yere 
agin,  'cause  1  mayn't  be  'round  fur  ter  git 
yer  out." 

The  three  Union  men,  one  after  the  other, 
grasped  the  good-natnied  fellow  by  the 
hand,  and  then  silently  departed. 

They  reached  the  brush  back  of  the  barn. 
They  found  the  horses  with  muffled  feet. 
They  also  found  a  portion  of  their  arms  and 
other  property;  and,  veiy  thankful  for  the 
thoughtful  kindness  of  their  friends,  they 
quickly  mounted  and  rode  silently  away. 

It  was  late  on  the  night  of  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  June  that  Grit  ouce  more  presented 
nmauding  otficer,  and 


lie 


Iletohl  hem  that  a, irnat  battle  was  immi- 
nent; that  St  uait  had  reported  his  exposed 
situation  toward  the  liver;  and  that  Lee 
and  his  generals  had  decided  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  his  carelessness  or  shortsighted- 
ness. 

Un  hearing  this  report,  such  measures  of 
defense  were  taken  as  the  time  permitted; 
and  the  expected  ;attack  was  awaited— by 
McClellan,  at  least— with  anxious  apprehen- 
sion. 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning 
—the  twenty-sixth— that  the  rebel  forces  is- 
sued in  vast  numbers  from  their  camps  be- 
fore Richmond,  and  commenced  their  bold 
and   desperate   assaults   upon    the   Federal 

Tlieir  first  demonstration  was  an  attack  on 
llie  ia\  ally  commanded  by  General  Sher- 
iiiaii.  wlii.h  was  posted  in  the  vicinity  of 
Hanover  (.'oiirt  Huu.se,  on  the  extremenght. 
While  this  ojieratioii  was  progiessing,  thev 
extendedtheirassanll  to  the  troops  stationed 
nearest  to  Ilie-e,  whieh  were  posted  in  the 
vicinity  of  Sleehanirsville. 

They  crossed  t  he  riiieka  hominy  at  Meadow- 
bridge,  above  the  town,  with  the  evident  in- 
tention of  turning  the  right  wing  of  the 
Federal  forces. 

The  troops  placed  here  were  the  Eighth  Il- 
linois cavalry,  more  than  half  of  the  liuek- 
tail  Regiment,  and  li\e  e.,ai|iaiiies  ol  the 
Pennsylvania  Reserves.  'I  h.  se  weie  jiro- 
■     ited  by  rifle-pits  ami  la  ,  a-i  woi  i^-. 


As 


thi 


0  swai  ill  ine.xhanstilily  in  front  and  around 
he  Federal  lines,  eleaiiy  proved  that  an  at- 
emjit  at  resistance  liy  so  small  a  corps 
vould  be  wholly  useless. 

General  Reynolds  immediately  dispatched 

1  messenger  to  General  McCaxl  forreiuforce- 


ed  before 
de  a  firm 
lintained 
y   that  a 


During  the  interval 
these  could  arrive,  tin 
resistance,    and    the 
their  position   with   s 
large  number  of  them 

About  two  o'clock  the  engagement  be- 
came more  general  and  desperate. 

While  advancing  down  by  the  rear  of 
Mechanicsville  through  low,  swamy  ground, 
the  enemy  wen-  nttai  ked  by  the  Federals 
from  the  cover  of  their  lille-pits  and  earth- 
works with  immense  .■lleet. 

Asceiieoi  i;i,at  e:ii  nage  and  tumult  en- 
sued. Many  ol  the  mrn  and  horses  sunk  in 
the   inire,   ami    heeaiiie   helpless  targets  for 

liy  this  the  aetion  laid  spread  along  the 
line  toward  the  hit,  ami  the  troops  of  Gen- 
eral .Met  "all  having  liceii  attacked,  now  en- 
gag..l  the  enemy. 

A  vigorous  contest  then  took  place,  which 
oceuiued  the  afternoon  of  the  twenty-sixth. 

ill  vain  the  rebels,  advancing  repeatedly 
with  great  resolution,  eudeavored  to  drive 
the  Federals  from  their  position.  The  latter 
remained  immovable. 

At  six  o'clock,  apparently  becoming  des- 
perate at  their  want  of  success,  the  rebels 
brought  fresh  troops  to  bear  upon  the  as- 
sault, and  the  battle  perceptibly  increased  iu 
fury. 

At  that  period  Morrell's  division  arrived 
opportunely  on    the  field    as   a   reinforee- 

The  second  brigade  of  this  division  was 
called  into  immediate  action.  It  was  or- 
dered to  relieve  the  center  of  General  Mc- 
Call's  column. 

The  Fourth  Michigan,  the  Fourteenth 
New  Y'ork,  the  Sixty-second  Pennsylvania, 
and  the  Niuth  Massachusetts,  together  with 
a  batialiun  of  Berdan's  sharpshooters,  were 
drawn  up  iu  line  of  battle. 

The  struggle  which  followed  was  well  sus- 
tained and  desperate  on  both  sides.  It  con- 
tiuued  without  any  advantage  to  either 
party  till  half  past  nine  o'clock. 

The  loss  of  the  enemy  during  this  period 
must  have  lieen  fearful,  as  they  were  con- 
Iroiited  by  the  Federal  forces  while  protect- 
ed iu  a  great  measure  by  their  rifle-pits  and 
breastworks.  | 

All  their  efforts  to  dislodge  the  latter 
proved  fruitless. 

Late  in  the  day  they  made  a  furious  charge 
with  cavalry.  They  were  met  by  a  squadron 
of  Federal  horse,  under  Buruham,  and 
driven  back,  many  of  their  horses  sticking 
fast  in  the  marsh,  and  being  abandoned  by 
their  liders. 

Here  it  was  that  Grit  Carroll  and  Sid  New- 
ton did  good  service,  both  fighting  Uke 
demons  until  the  enemy  had  retired  beyond 
rifle-shot. 

"  Three  more  of  the  murderers  fallen  be- 
fore my  carbine,'  muttered  (irit,  as  he  and 
Sidagain  joined  llieii  i  (unmaml,  from  which 
they  had  become  >eiiaiale.l.  ••And  now 
only  si.x  remain,  Stnai  i  hiinseU,  the  coward- 
"  '  ford.aud  lour  others;  auJ,  if  I  live 
tie  is  over,  some  of  those  will 


thisM 


••That  fiendish  murder  isn't  proving  to 
be  a  very  paying  investment  to  the  Southern 
Confederacy,'   remarked  Newton. 

'•I  don't   mean   it  shall,"  was  the  scout's 

Fitz-Jolin  Porter,  who  commanded  the 
entire  corps  to  which  the  division  engaged 
on  this  day  belonged,  was  present  in  every 

Sart  of  the  field,  and  was  ably  assisted  by 
IcCall,  Morrell,  and  Griffin. 
During  the  whole  battle  the  artillery  on 
both  sides  did  immense  execution.     At  some 
periods  the  filing  ..hook   the  earth,  aud  the 

fui'i.'ms'.omliat.'  '' 

At  seven  o  clock  the  eiieniy  made  a  special 
efloit  to  break  ihe  center  of  the  Federal 
troo|is  engaged.  This  efl'ort  was  confronted 
and  (letcated  with  great  gallantry  by  Gen- 

Tlie  troops  ou  the  left,  under  Seymour 
aud  Reynolds,  also  fought  with  much  hero- 
ism, aud  succeeded  in  defeating  the  attempts 
of  the  rebels  to  cross  the  bridge  over  the 
Chickahominy, 

Tliiis,  when  the  close  of  the  first  day's 
li-ht  airiveil,  the  enemy  had  really  gained 
nothing  ami  had  lost  heavily.  But  they 
«eii>  mil  .h.-iieaitened. 

Thi'_\  hail  only  made  a  beginning  of  the 
gigantic  enterprise  which  they  had  con- 
resolute  in  its  prosecution 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE   BATTLE   OF  GAINES'    MILJ-. 

During  the  night  which  ensued,  after  the 


16 


'±± 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


battle  at  Mechanicsville,  orders  were  given 
to  commence  the  removal  of  the  camp 
equipage,  the  stores,  and  the  ammunition 
ot;  the  Federal  army  toward  the  James 
River. 

Soon  long  trains  of  wagons,  several  thou- 
sand m  number,  began  their  slow  line  of 
march,  extending  four  miles  in  the  direc- 
tion indicated. 

The  sick  and  wounded  were  also  convey 
ed,  some  toward  the  White  House,  some  to- 
ward Harrison's  Landing.  General  Porter 
had  been  ordered  to  withdraw  his  forces 
from  their  recent  position  near  the  river. 

While  these  movements  were  progressing 
in  the  Federal  camp,  the  rebels  were  not 
idle. 


Immense  reinforcements  were  promptly 

brought  forward. 

The  early  dawn  of  the  next  day,  the 
twenty-seventh  of  June,  beheld  sixty  thou- 
sand rebels  under  arms,  ready  to  renew  the 
assault. 

The  Federals  had  gained  some  slight  re- 
pose during  the  night,  and  though  wearied, 
and  about  to  be  assailed  by  superior  num- 
bers, were  undaunted  by  the  impending 
terrors  of  their  situation. 

General  Porter  had  received  orders  to  fall 
back  to  a  position  two  miles  beyond  Gaiues' 
Mills.  In  obeying  this  order,  General  Sykes' 
division  led  the  retreating  column.  Next 
came  the  division  of  General  MorreU. 

During  the  march  perfect  order  was  main- 
tained, but  the  enemy  mistaking  the  move- 
ment for  a  hasty  flight,  pressed  forward  in 
enormous  masses,  overtook  the  Federals 
near  Gaines'  Mills,  and  there  resumed  the 
assault  upon  them. 

Their  advance  had  been  temporarily  im- 
peded by  the  destruction  of  the  bridge  at 
the  mill.  But  soon  they  constructed  a  tem- 
porary causeway,  by  which  their  artillery 
was  conveyed  over,  and  the  pursuit  of  the 
Federals  was  renewed. 

As  their  retreat  was  made  at  an  unhurried 
and  leisurely  pace,  it  was  not  long  before 
they  were  overtaken  by  the  eager  enemy. 

Then  ensued  the  bloody  actions  of  Gaines' 

The  scene  of  this  conflict  was  an  ex 
area,  about  two  miles  in  length,  and  one  mile 
in  breadth.  This  space  was  made  up  of  green 
meadows,  waving  grain  fields,  thick  woods, 
boggy  marshes,  and  rude  ravines.  Several 
farmhouses  existed  within  its  limits,  which 
were  afterward  used  as  hospitals. 

General  Porter  had  Ijeea  ordered  to  engage 
the  advancing  foe,  if  be  were  attacked  in 
this  position.  Accordingly  at  eleven  o  clock 
all  was  ready  to  receive  them ;  each  division, 
each  brigade,  each  regiment,  and  each  gun 
had  then  been  placed  iu  its  proper  position. 

Along  the  far-extending  lines  at  proper 
intervals  the  immortal  banners  of  the  re- 
public appeared  in  view,  waving  majestic- 
ally and  gracefully  in  the  breeze,  and  bid- 
ding defiance  to  the  approaching  host. 

Bright  guns  in  endless  succession  flashed 
in  the  morning  light.  The  long  ranks  of 
Federal  troops  presented  a  firm  and  daunt- 
less front.  Generals  with  their  staffs  were 
seen  riding  rapidly  from  regiment  to  regi- 
ment giving  orders  and  perfecting  their  po- 
sitions. 

After  a  short  interval  of  silence  and  ex- 
pectation, the  sudden  roar  of  the  enemy's 
artillery,  and  the  falling  and  bursting  ot 
their  shells  gave  evidence  that  they  had 
recommenced  the  contest. 

The  first  firing  came  from  the  woods  and 
from  the  roads  on  the  right.  The  Federal 
cannon  instantly  thundered  in  reply  at  the 
still  invisible  enemy. 

At  length,  after  a  considerable  period  of 
time  had  been  expended  in  this    manner, 

!  masses  of  the  rebels  emerged  from  the  woods, 
deployed  into  position  in  front  ot  the  Fed- 
eral lines,  and  the  engagement  became 
general. 

It  was  fiercely  contested  on  both  sides. 

Several  desperate  attempts  were  made  by 
the  enemy  to  break  through  the  Federal 
lines  on  the  right  and  on  the  left ;  but  they 
were  met  in  every  instance  with  the  un- 
flinching firmness  of  veterans,  and  were  in- 
variably repulsed  with  heavy  losses  to  the 
assailants. 

The  battle  continued  to  rage  during  the 
whole  day,  with  the  usual  vicissitudes  which 
characterize  engagements  in  which  brave 
men  contend  for  the  mastery  with  equal 
degrees  of  resolution  and  obstinacy.  As 
evening  approached,  theenergy  of  the  attack 
of  the  rebels  diminished,  and  a  sudden  lull 
occurred ;  but  after  a  short  respite  the  con- 
test was  renewed  by  them  with  greater  fury 
than  before. 

It  then  became  evident  that  during  this 


mysterious  interval  the  enemy  had  been 
largely  reinforced. 

Their  troops  now  rushed  forward  in  over- 
whelming masses  with  savage  and  frantic 
yells. 

With  answering  shouts  the  two  armies 
approached  each  other,  and  dealt  their 
death  blows  upon  their  opposing  ranks  with 
increased  ferocity. 

The  combat  now  became  most  desperate 
and  sanguinary. 

The  Federals  performed  many  deeds  of 
the  noblest  daring  and  fortitude,  but  soon 
the  superior  energy  and  vigor  which  por- 
tions of  the  Confederate  columns  exhibited, 
demonstrated  that  they  had  the  advantage 
not  merely  of  a  preponderance  of  numbers, 
but  also  of  physical  freshness. 

It  was  well  that  at  this  critical  moment 
the  Federals  received  some  reinforcements 
from  the  other  side  of  the  Chickahominy. 
They  consisted  ot  three  brigades,  with  some 
cavalry,  a  good  part  of  them  Irish. 

These  Irish  regiments,  as  was  their  usual 
custom,  went  into  the  fight  with  their  coats 
off,  and  their  sleeves  rolled  up,  and  fought 
the  exultant  rebels  with  the  fury  and  feroci- 
ty of  tigers. 

Hundreds  of  Confederates  then  bit  the 
dust,  laid  low  forever  by  the  stalwart  blows 
of  the  gallant  and  pugnacious  sons  of  Erin. 
The  carnage  was  still  progressing  all  over 
the  widespread  field,  when  the  sun  disap- 
peared in  the  western  heavens,  and  the 
shadows  of  night  were  about  to  descend 
upon  the  tumultuous  and  sanguinary  scene. 
The  enemy  had  repeatedly  endeavored  to 
force  the  Federals  into  the  low,  marshy 
tract  lying  between  Gaines'  Mill  and  the 
bridge. 

To  have  been  driven  into  that  perilous  po- 
sition would  have  insured  the  destruction 
of  a  large  number  of  troops,  for  it  was  im- 
passable ground,  and  would  have  proved  the 
weltering  grave  of  thousands. 

At  one  time  the  rebels  had  nearly  suc- 
ceeded in  this  undertaking. 

It  was  when  the  danger  here  was  most 
imminent,  that  the  wild  rush  and  deter- 
mined assault  of  the  Irish  regiments  saved 
that  portion  of  the  army  from  destruction 
During  the  progress  of  the  and.several  partial 
panics  had  occurred,  and  some  rapid  and 
frantic  running  to  the  rear  had  been 
achieved  by  fri^tened  fragments  of  the 
Federal  forces.  But  the  vast  majority  of 
them  fought  nobly  and  well. 

About  twenty-seven  thousand  Union 
troops  took  part  in  this  battle. 

In  addition  to  those  composing  the  corps 
of  General  Porter,  the  divisions  of  Generals 
Hooker,  Kearney  and  Sumner  were  also  en- 
gaged. 

The  number  of  Confederates  who  figured 
in  the  contest  was  at  least  sixty  thousand ; 
and  a  large  portion  of  these  were  fresh 
troops,  who  were  substituted  from  time  to 
time  for  those  who  had  become  wearied 
during  the  progress  of  the  struggle. 

Notwithstanding  this  disparity  of  num- 
bers, at  the  close  of  the  day  the  Federals 
had  not  been  driven  from  their  position. 
The  main  body  of  the  troops  were  still  in 
their  first  lines  near  Gaines'  Mill. 

The  losses  on  both  sides  were  very  heavy 
Many  valuable  Federal  officers  were  slain' 
The  field  was  covered  in  many  places  with 
heaps  of  dead  and  dying. 

The  plaihtive  groans  of  the  wounded, 
after  the  roar  of  the  contest  ceased,  bur- 
dened the  midnight  air,  and  added  to  the 
horrors  ot  the  fearful  scene. 

The  combatants  on  both  sides  slept  upon 
their  arms,  except  those  who  were  detailed 
to  bury  the  dead,  to  convey  the  wouuded 
from  the  field,  and  to  perform  picket  duty. 
While  these  operations  were  jirogressiug 
on  the  right  wing  of  the  Federal  army,  an 
engagement  took  place  on  the  left,  where 
Geueral  Smith  held  a  position  consisting  of 
breastworks  and  two  redoubts. 

He  was  attacked  on  Friday  evening  at 
seven  o'clock,  by  the  Georgia  brigade,  com- 
manded by  General  Toombs.  The  latter 
was  encountered  by  Hancock's  brigade,  the 
guns  in  the  redoubts  assisting  in  the  engage- 
ment, which  was  brief  but  desperate. 

After  losing  a  hundred  killed,  whom  they 
left  on  the  field,  the  Georgians  retired  in 
disorder  before  the  deadly  and  continuous 
fire  of  the  Federal  troops. 

This  was  the  first  battle  at  Gelding's 
Farm.  The  second  ensued  on  the  following 
morning. 

Mortified  at  their  defeat,   the  chivalrous 
Georgians  determined  to  renew  the  contest. 
At  eight  o'clock  they  again  advanced   to- 
ward the  redoubts,  and  resumed  the  attack. 
The  Federal  troops  were  either  protected 


lying  on  the  grass.  They  gave  the  GeorgiauB 
a  deadly  reception. 

Colonel  Lamar  was  mortally  wouuded  in 
the  commencement  of  the  engagement,  and 
his  lieutenant-colonel  was  taken  prisoner. 

The  result  of  the  contest  was  the  same  as 
before,  the  rebels  being  compelled  to  retire, 
after  suffering  very  severe  losses. 

That  same  night,  as  Grit  Carroll  and  his 
three  friends,  Sid  Newton,  Charley  Clayton 
and  Tom  Merrett,  who,  through  the  influ- 
ence of  Fletcher  Burnham,  were  hence-  " 
forth  to  be  hisconstaut  companions,  stretch- 
ed themselves  upon  the  ground  for  a  few 
hours'  rest,  the  following  brief  conversation 
occurred :  , 

"  Well,  Grit,  old  boy,"said  Charley  Oayton; 

you've  done  some  pretty  hard  service  to- 
day, and  that  piece  of  yours  has  rung  out  a 
great   many     times.      What   is    the   grand 


ber  how  that  foots  i 

"You've  added  something  to  the  sum 
total  of  it  to-day,"  said  Newton,  confidently. 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply,  "two  more  of  the 
miserable  cowards  are  dead,  and  I've  mark- 
ed another  for  life— be  the  same  long  or 
short." 

"  Did  you  get  a  shot  at  Stuart?" 

"  Yes  ;  fired  at  him  ten  times ;  but  never 
touched  him  once.  He  was  not  in  the  regu- 
lar fight,  you  know  ;  but  I  knew  where  to 
find  him." 

"And  Langford?" 

"  'Twas  he  I  marked,  and  if  he  ain't  the 
most  frightened  and  most  uncomfortable 
man  in  the  whole  Confederate  army  to- 
night, why,  I'm  greatly  mistaken.  I  put 
one  bullet  through  his  left  ear,  another 
plowed  a  furrow  across  his  forehead,  leaving 
the  mark  of  Cain  there;  and  a  third  carried 
away  a  portion  of  his  upper  1  p." 

"  You  did  give  him  a  close  call,"  exclaimed 
Newton. 

"  I  should  say  so !"  added  Tom. 

"Ay;  but  the  next  will  be  closer  though," 
said  Grit,  calmly;  "and,  now,  let  us  go  to 
sleep ;  there's  work  for  us  on  the  morrow." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  EETREAT. 

During  the  pight  after  the  battle,  the  re- 
moval of  the  baggage  trains,  of  the  sick,  and 
the  disabled  toward  the  James  River  and 
the  White  House,  was  continued. 

The  enemy  had  thus  far  gaiued  but  little 
advantage,  and  had  been  very  severely  pun- 
ished. 

Still,  however,  deluded  by  the  absurd  and 
fantastic  conceit  that  the  retrograde  move- 
ment of  the  Federal  army  was  a  mere  flight 
before  their  invincible  forces,  they  were  de- 
termined to  continue  the  contest. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  twenty-seventh, 
the  headquarters  of  General  McClellan  were 
removed  across  the  Chickahominy  to  the 
vicinity  of  Savage  Station. 

Thither  vast  masses  of  stores  and  ammu- 
nition had  been  transported,  on  their  way 
to  their  new  depot  on  James  River. 

Throughout  this  whole  route  the  houses 
were  converted  into  hospitals,  and  were  oc- 
cupied by  the  wounded  of  the  Federal 
army. 

During  Friday  night  the  larger  portion  of 
the  Union  forces  crossed  the  Chickahominy, 
and  thus  obtained  some  advantage  over  the 
pursuing  enemy. 

It  should  be  observed  at  this  time,  that 
the  battle  of  Mechauicsville  and  Gaines' 
Mill  took  place  on  the  leftside  of  that  stream. 
Those  which  afterward  ensued  were  fought 
on  the  riiy/it  side. 

This  arrangement  will  be  understood,  when 
it  is  remembered  that  the  Chiikalioniiuy 
flows  southward  into  the  James  River;  that, 
in  describing  the  events  connected  with  it, 
the  observer  is  supposed  to  be  facing  the 
mouth  of  the  stream,  and  that  the  points  of 
the  compass  are  to  be  taken  accordingly. 

Notwithstanding  the  enormous  losses 
which  the  rebels  had  suffered,  and  although 
they  had  not  as  yet  driven  their  opponents 
from  a  single  one  of  their  chosen  positions, 
they  persisted  in  claiming  coutinual  vic- 
tories. 

Under  this  pleasing  delusion,  they  prepar- 
ed, after  the  interval  of  a  day,  to  renew  the 
contest,  and  to  endure  additional  and  still 
more  sanguinary  slaughters,  in  the  pursuit 
of  a  favorite  and  fanciful  chimera. 

No  attack  was  made  on  the  main  body  of 
the  Federal  army  on  Saturday,  the  twenty- 
eighth  of  June. 
Early  in  the  morning  of  that  day  the  en- 


bythe  breastworks,   or   were  concealed  by  I  tire  force  which  had  so  valiantly  confronted 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY 


"A 


the  rebel  hosts  had  crossed  the  Chickahom- 
iuy  by  four  bridges. 

These  were  then  blown  up  or  burued,  to 
intercept  the  pursuit  of  the  enemy. 

Liiter  in  the  day  it  was  ascertaiued  that 
they  had  crossed  the  stream  at  Newbridge, 
with  the  apparent  intention  of  moving 
round  toward  Bottom  Bridge,  to  cut  off  tlie 
communication  of  the  Federals  with  tlieir 
railroad  and  telegraph. 

Saturday  wore  away  without  any  heavy 
engagement  on  the  part  of  the  rebels. 
,  The  reason  of  this  apparent  inaclivilv  was 
that  a  liirf;e  number  of  their  I  i-.,m|,s  \mi  .■ 
busily  (•iij;a];ed  in  buryini;  their  iIi-:m1,  ;iim1  in 
eonveyiu.m  Iheir  wounded  from  the  s.-eiics 
of  the  late  sanguinary  engagements  into 
Richmond. 

Many  ot  the  wounded  Federal  soldiers  also 
tell  into  their  hands. 

During  this  day  the  Union  array  was  with- 
drawn as  hi  I-  as  Savage's  Station. 

From  iliis  p. lint,  several  separate  trains  of 
cars,  nikil  with  the  wounded,  were  sent 
down  to  Wliite  House.  A  third  trip  was 
about  to  bo  made  when  it  was  ascertained 
that  the  enemy  had  cut  the  telegraph  wires, 
and  had  gained  possession  of  Despatch  Sta- 
tion. 

A  large  proportion  of  the  sick  and  wound- 
ed who  were  at  Savage  Station,  were  ,in  this 
same  day  [ilaced   in   ambuhimi's,   and    their 


Hu 


menccd.  But  a  sullluient  iiuinlier  of  these 
conveyances  were  not  to  be  obtained;  and 
except  those  who  were  al)le  to  walk,  or  even 
to  crawl  toward  a  place  of  safety,  the  re- 
mainder ultimately  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy. 

During  Saturday  night  a  vast  amount  of 
commissary  stores,  ammunition  and  hos- 
pital supplies,  for  which  there  were  no  means 
of  removal  at  command,  were  destroyed  by 
order  of  General  McClellau. 

Four  car-loads  of  ammunition,  which  had 
arrived  from  the  White  IIous.-  dm  in-  tlio 
previovis  week,  were  replacid  in  flic  cars, 
and  the  entire  train,  keaded  by  an  fn:;iiu-. 
was  let  loose,  sent  down  the  railway,  and 
run  into  the  Chickahominy  at  the  bridge 
which  had  been  burned,  to  prevent  it  from 
falling  into  the  possession  of  the  rebels. 
This  train  rushed  forward  on  its  pathway  to 
destruction  with  fearful  velocity,  and  at 
length  iibin^ed  into  the  tranquilstream  with 
aprodif^ious  II ash. 

Strange  speitacles  were  exhibited  by  the 
multitudes  of  the  wounded,  and  by  the  long 
lines  of  ambiUauces  and  wagons  which,  dur- 
ing the  day,  weretoilingontheir  way  toward 
James  River. 

Htmdreds  of  men  went  limping  along, 
some  with  their  arms  in  slings,  some  hob- 
bling on  crutches.  The  ambulances  were  all 
flUed,  and  often  the  wounded  would  be  seen 
sitting  in  the  end  of  the  wagons,  their  broken 
legs  or  crushed  ankles  hanging  out,  and  the 
blood  dripping  from  them  upon  the  ground 
beneath. 


cortege.  These,  together  with  droves  ot  cat- 
tle, crowds  of  negroes,  teamsters,  sutlers, 
and  frightened  fugitives  of  every  kind,  to- 
gether with  the  noise  and  tumult,  the 
swearing  and  screaming,  which  inevitably 
attended  such  a  throng,  at  such  a  time,  pre- 
sented a  most  extraordinary  combination 
of  contrasts. 

Sometimes  a  sudden  terror  pervaded  the 
mass,  for  then  a  report  had  arrived  that  the 
enemy  were  interposing  a  i^owerful  column 
between  them  and  the  James  River,  thereby 
cutting  off  their  only  means  of  escape.  Then 
again,  when  the  falsity  of  this  rumor  was  as- 
certained by  the  return  of  messengers  who 
had  been  sent  to  the  front,  hope  would  re- 
vive, and  a  gayer  tone  would  animate  the 
volatile  and  motley  assemblage. 

Meanwhile,  orders  had  been  sent  to  White 
House  to  hasten  the  departure  of  the  Fed- 
eral troops  from  that  station.  These  orders 
were  obeyed  with  all  possible  dispatch,  and 
the  place  was  finally  abandoned  l>y  the  as- 
sembled transports  and  steamers  at  tour 
o'clock  on  Saturday  afternoon,  the  twenty- 
eighth.  All  the  stores,  ammunition  and 
wounded  had  been  previously  embarked, 
and  safely  removed. 

About  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening  the 
pickets  of  the  enemy  began  to  make  their 
appearance  in  the  vicinity,  but  they  found 
only  desolation  and  solitude.  Even  the  in- 
significant building,  which  had  given  a  name 
and  some  celebrity  to  this  locality,  had  been 
burned,  although  the  author  of  the  super- 
fluous and  barbarous  deed  remained  un- 
known. 

At  three  o'clock  on  Sunday  morning,  the 
twenty-ninth.  General  McClellan,   attended 


by  his  staff  and  body-guard,  left  the  scene 
of  his  night's  reiiose,  and  rode  forward 
toward  Charles  City.  He  had  directed  his 
generals  to  abandon  theirintrenchments,  to 
follow  with  their  several  divisions  until  in- 
tercepted by  the  enemy,  and  then  to  give 
them  battle. 

At  daylight  on  Sunday  morning  General 
Smith  began  to  retire.  Generals  Sumner, 
Heintzelman,  Keys,and  Franklin  soon  fol- 
lowed with  their  respective  forces.  Then 
came  McCall's  division,  and  last  of  all  those 
of  Hooker  and  Kearney,  who  brought  up 
the  rear. 

As  soon  as  the  rebel  commanders  observed 
'  motion, 
in  upon  them ;  but 
it  was  not  till  later  in  the  day  that  a  regular 
engagement  took  place  i>etween  them. 

Then  ensued  the  battle  of  Peach  Orchard. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

PEACH  ORCHARD  AND  WHITE  OAK  SWAMP. 

The  enemy  approached  the  Federal  troops 


ipproacnea  i 
istnir-  Road 


cohiiiins  of  the  enemy  was  ternhc. 

Tlieir  ranks  wavered  and  staggered  like 
liniiiken  men  before  the  continuous  hail- 
storm of  shot  and  shell  which  was  poured 

Tlie  battle  lasted  from  eight  in  the  morn- 
ing until  noon. 

During  this  period  the  rebels  endeavored 
to  outflank  the  Federals  on  the  left,  and  in- 
tercept them  on  the  Williamsburg  Road,  but 
without  effect. 

They  charged  several  times  on  three  bri- 
gades, with  the  evident  intention  of  crush- 
ing them  in  detail,  but  with  no  better  sue- 
All  I  he  troops  engaged  fought  with  des- 

'I'iie  ellorts'made  by  the  rebelsto  drive  the 
Federals  into  a  retreat  from  their  position, 
were  absolute  failures;  and  it  was  not  until 
the  Union  generals  had  become  assured  tiiat 
the  caravan  of  wagons,  ambulanees.  and 
cattle  of  their  army  had  crossed  the  White 
Oak  Swamp,  and  were  safe  from  the  immedi- 
ate pursuit  of  the  enemy,  that  they  gave  the 
order  to  fall  liack. 

This  order  was  executed  leisurely ;  and 
having  reached  Savage  Station,  they  again 
drew  up  in  line  of  battle  to  receive  the  ad- 
vancing foe. 

The  contest  which  ensued  was  still  more 
fierce  and  sanguinary. 

It  commenced  about  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  and  did  not  terminate  until  eleven 
o'clock  at  night. 

Before  the  attack  began,  the  rebels  had 
been  largely  reinforced ;  their  next  assault 
therefore  was  much  more  vigorous  and  de- 
structive. 

They  approached  through  a  dense  wood, 
which  concealed  them  from  view  until  they 
were  within  a  short  distance  of  the  Federal 
lines.  They  then  suddenly  emerged  from 
the  edge  of  the  forest,  ran  out  three  or  four 
batteries  to  commanding  positions,  and 
opened  a  rapid  fire  of  shot  and  shell. 

This  salute  they  kept  up  with  such  skill 
and  resolution,  that  a  portion  of  the  Feder- 
als were  overpowered  and  gave  way.  A 
Pennsylvania  regiment  broke,  and  then  fled 
in  a  panic,  after  losing  a  hundred  men  in 
killed  and  wounded. 

The  Federal  artillery  could  not  for  a  time 
be  served,  all  the  men  being  either  picked 
off  or  driven  away  from  their  guns. 

Never  liad   the  rebels  fought   with   more 

During  the  progress  of  the  battle  the  Fed- 
eral forces  were,  on  several  occasions,  in  a 
very  critical  position. 

At  one  lime  an  entire  brigade  of  the  en- 
emy was  oliserved  to  be  moving  stealthily 
down  to  tlie  ri;.;lit.  with  the  design  of  mak- 
ing an  ;ilta(  k  u[Min  the  flank. 

This  intention  wasdefeatedljy  the  prompt- 
itude with  wliich  Captain  Pettit  placed  a 
liattery  in  such  a  position  as  to  sweep  the 
entire  column  with  grape  and  canister, 
which  eventually  compelled  them  to  recoil, 
and  to  relinquish  their  purpose. 

During  the  progress  ot  the  fight  the  Irish 
brigades  greatly  distinguished  themselves, 
charging  in  some  eases  up  to  the  very  can- 
non of  the  enemy.  One  of  the  rebel  batter- 
ies they  hauled  off,  spiked  the  guns,  demol- 
ished the  caiTiages,  and  then  abandoned 
them. 

At  length  the  shades  of  darkness  descend- 
ed upon  this  mortal  combat,  but  they 
brought  no  termination  to  its  horrors.    The 


roar  of  tlie  cannon,  ana  the  sharper,  shriller 
sound  of  the  musketry  continued  to  be 
deafenini;  nnd  i'lces^nnt. 

Theni-iii  \>  :c    i ic  as  light  as  noonday 

atrapiiln,     :  ;  c   lurid  flashes  of  the 

artilleiN ,         i  ;  --  harge   enabled  the 

combalan:     i  .  ,i  -  .  i  i  iiiii  the  position  of  their 

To  aiM  io  I  lie  terrors  uf  the  scene,  the  ad- 
jiifciii  mm,„|>  were  set  on  flreby  the  Ijursting 
slu  Us,  and  s.Hin  the  conflagration  rolled 
vast  liea\  iny  volumes  of  smoke  and  flame 
far  up  into  "the  vault  of  heaven,  giving  to 
the  battlefield  the  appearance  of  a  pande- 
monium. 

Thus  the  carnage  and  the  contest  raged  un- 
til near  midnight. 

The  losses  on  both  sides  were  very  heavy. 

The  rebels  had  done  much  daniaiie  liylir- 
ing  into  the  liospitals  in  wliieli  many  oi  the 
wounded  luid  been  placed;  and  thc\  perpe- 
trated this  barbarity  in  spite  of  the  signifi- 
cant white  and  red  flags  which  were  placed 
upon  them. 

At  twelve  o'clock  the  Federal  command- 
ers received  orders  from  General  McClellan 

acio'.,~   wiiiti'  t'lak   Swaini.,   inaM^uich  a's  the 


the  James 

River,  which  liad  begun  in  a  leisurely  and 
voluntary  march  thither,  unavoidably  de- 
generated into  a  flight  on  the  part  of  the 
Federals,  and  into  a  pursuit  on  the  part  of 


That  wcai'ieil,  overworked,  but  heroic 
Imnd,  who  had  engaged  the  enemy  so  often 
and  so  bravely,  were  compelled  to  exhiiust 
the  last  powers  ot  liinnan  endurance  in  order 
to  escape  complete  destruction. 

The  race  to  reach  the  swainji  was  one  of 
desperate  energy,  accompaiiii  d  by  desperate 


II  was  ciL'ht  o'clock  on  Monday  morning  ^ 
of  the  thiiticthof  June.  ' 

Tlicday  was  bright  and  hot.  The  fugitives 
were  exhausted  with  their  superhuman  ef- 
forts in  fighting  and  retreating. 

After  crossing  the  creek,  hundreds  threw 
themselves    upon  the  ground  to  rest,    or, 


els 


the  race  to  White 
1st  army  of  the  reb- 
t  ot  them,  and  in  a 
leir  rear. 

'1-  desperate  engage- 
locality  in   which  it 


short  time  cam, 

Thenfollowc. 
ment,  named  al 
took  place. 

Soon  after  crossing  White  Oak  Creek,  the 
Federal  generals  formed  their  new  line  of 
battle  with  great  energy  and  promptness. 

The  new  position  of  the  Unmn  forces  ex- 
tended about  four  miles  in  len.i;tlp. 

On  th"  cxlnijic  lijilit  (ieiicial  Hancock 
was  posted  with  his  biigadc.  Xext  to  him 
were  phiced  the  troops  ot  Brooks  and  David- 
son. The  batteries,  Iielonging  to  this  division 
were  commanded  by  Captain  Ayres.  Then 
came  the  divisions  of  Sumner,  Heintzelman 
and  Porter. 

The  battle  commenced  with  an  attack  by 
the  enemy  on  the  column  of  General  Han- 
cock. 

They  opened  with  about  twenty  batteries, 
which  were  served  with  such  vigor  and  skill 
that  they  soou  blew  up  several  of  Captain 
Mott's  caissons,  shattered  his  guns,  and 
spread  confusion  among  the  teamsters,  can- 
and  troops  who  came  within   their 


18 


THE  WA.R  LIBRARY. 


graceful  proceeding  General  McClellan,  on 
the  following  day,  ordered  the  provost-mar- 
shal to  arrest  all  the  stragglers  as  they  came 
into  camp. 

After  a  short  time,  howeyer,  the  Federals 
who  had  been  attacked,  recovered  their  self- 
possession,  and  their  guns  responded  to  those 
of  the  enemy. 

The  latter  had  not  yet  crossed  White  Oak 
Creek,  and  the  engagement  was  still  con- 
fined to  the  operations  of  the  artillery. 

At  length  a  portion  of  the  rebels  made  an 
attempt  to  cross  the  stream,  but  were  met 
and  repulsed  with  success  by  General  Smith, 
whose  brisk  fire  of  infantry  extended  con- 
tinuously along  the  whole  columns. 

Finding  it  impossible  to  cross  in  front,  the 
enemy  detached  a  powerful  force  to  proceed 
four  miles  due  south  to  Charles  City  Crosa- 
roads,  for  the  purpose  of  iuterposing  be- 
tween the  Federal  forces  and  James  River, 
thereby  intercepting  their  retreat. 

The  position  which  they  proposed  to  reach 
was  within  a  mile  and  a  half  of  Turkey 
Bend  on  that  river;  and,  had  they  succeeded 
in  their  intention,  they  would  have  inevit- 
ably accomplished  the  ruin  of  the  army, 
and  prevented  its  successful  establishment 
at  Harrison's  Landing. 

Fortunately,  information  of  this  move- 
ment of  the  rebels  was  obtained  in  time,  and 
a  portion  of  the  weai-ied  Union  troops  was 
so  marshaled  as  to  prevent  its  achieve- 
ment. 

They  reached  the  advancing  columns  of 
the  enemy  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
and  attacked  them. 

The  rebels  fought  desperately,  and  their 
artillery  produced  a  dreadful  havoc  in  the 
Federal  ranks. 

The  latter  were  nearly  dead  already  from 
the  effects  of  heat,  exhaustion  and  thirst; 
and  so  little  discipUne  remained  that  a  por- 
tion of  those  regiments  which  were  nearest 
the  James  River  at  one  time  broke  ranks, 
rushed  to  its  shores,  plunged  in,  and,  after 
slaking  their  thirst,  returned  to  their  colors, 
and  resumed  the  fight. 

The  resistance  of  the  Federal  troops  grad- 
ually became  weaker.  Human  nature  could 
endure  no  more. 

The  fresh  masses  of  the  exultant  rebels 
continued  to  press  forward  with  still  greater 
resolution.  An  overwhelming  and  decisive 
victory  seemed  about  to  crown  their  perse- 
vering efforts,  when,  at  the  critical  moment, 
a  delivery  suddenly  appeared. 

As  at  Pittsburg  Landing,  so  in  the  present 
instance,  the  gallant  navy  of  the  Union  res- 
cued the  land  forces  from  destruction. 

At  the  very  crisis  the  gunboats  on  the 
James  River  opened  their  fire  upon  the 
enemy. 

At  five  o'clock  the  enormous  rifled  guns  of 
three  gunboats,  which  were  anchored  in 
^  Turkey  Bend,  belched  forth  their  colossal 
shells,  with  a  detonation  which  completely 
drowned  the  feebler  cliorus  of  all  the  artil- 
lery on  land,  and  terrified  the  foe  by  the  un- 
expected presence  of  a  more  formidable  an- 
tagonist. 

As  the  shells  descended  upon  the  serried 
masses  of  the  rebels,  and  burst  among  them, 
whole  ranks  were  battered  to  the  earth  by 
the  flying  fragments. 

Horrible  havoc  ensued. 

Confusion  and  terror  were  quickly  diffused 
through  their  columns,  and  they  who,  a  few 
moments  before,  were  confident  of  driving 
the  Federal  army  into  the  James  River,  or 
of  compelling  it  to  surrender,  themselves 
began  to  give  way. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

BATTLE   OF   IIALVERX   HILL. 

Encouraged  by  the  evident  effect  of  the 
shot  of  the  gunboats,  the  Federal  com- 
manders, of  whom  the  most  distinguished 
on  this  memorable  field  was  General  Heint- 
zelman,  determined  to  recover  the  fortunes 
of  the  day  by  making  a  combined  and  des- 
perate charge. 

The  gunboats  were,  therefore  signaled  to 
suspend  their  fire. 

Preparations  were  quickly  made  to  effect 
the  intended  movement. 

The  great-hearted  veteran  whom  we  have 
just  named  galloped  from  column  to  col- 
umn. 

He  announced  the  purpose  to  charge  in 
brief  and  thrilling  words. 

He  then  returned  to  his  position,  and 
passed  down,  to  the  right  and  to  the  left, 
the  stern  order  of  advance. 

The  bugles  sounded,  and,  like  the  surging 
of  a  mighty  deluge,  which  has  long  been 
compressed  within  narrow  limits,  that  mass 
of  heroes,  having  oaught  new  energy  and 


They  marched  defiantly  against  the  foe, 
with  the  determination  to  conquer  or  to 
perish. 

The  enemy  met  the  rushing  tide  at  first 
with  firmness;  but  nothing  could  long  re- 
sist such  a  delirium  of  fortitude  as  seemed 
to  pervade  and  to  inflame  their  assailants. 

They  gradually  gave  way;  their  lines 
broke,  and,  eventually,  they  fled  from  the 
field  in  complete  confusion. 

During  this  famous  battle-shock  many 
were  slain  on  both  sides,  and  many  prison- 
ers were  taken. 

In  the  entire  engagement  the  Federals 
lost,  in  killed  and  wounded,  not  less  than 
three  thousand  and  flve  hundred.  The  loss 
of  the  enemy  was  undoubtedly  as  great,  if 
not  greater. 

The  contest  saved  the  Federal  army  from 
ruin  or  from  capitulation,  and  covered  both 
the  generals  who  commanded,  and  the  sol- 
diers who  fought  in  it,  with  enduring  re- 
nown. 

In  vain  had  the  best  rebel  officers  repeat- 
edly put  in  practice  their  favorite  tactics  of 
hurling  fresh  troops  on  the  Federal  lines, 
first  on  one  wing,  then  on  the  other,  and 
suddenly  in  the  center. 

All  was  in  vain. 

The  goal  had  been  safely  reached. 

The  glancing  placid  waters  of  the  James 
River  had  at  last  greeted  the  longing  eyes  of 
the  soldiers  of  the  LTnion,  and  thepossibility 
of  their  destruction  or  of  a  still  more  disas- 


ted. 


At  th.' .Im^,.  mT  u,.'  I.aitl.'  m  White  Oak 
Swaniji  llic  I'.'drral  ar]u,\-  tcn.k  jiossession  of 
Malvern  liill  iii  The  \lcinity  of  the  river, 
(ieueral  McClellan  had  selected  Harrison's 
Lauding,  six  miles  below,  as  his  future  per- 
manent camp,  and  thither  the  convoy  of 
wagons,  ammunition  stores,  and  supplies  of 
all  sorts  continued  to  be  directed. 

The  James  River  was  crowded  with  trans- 
ports and  vessels  of  all  kinds,  to  assist  in  the 
work  of  transportation. 


yet  com- 
pleted. On  Tuesday,  the  first  of  July,  the 
last  of  this  memorable  series  of  engage- 
ments—the battle  of  Malvern  Hill— was 
fought. 

As  an  attack  from  the  enemj-  was  antici- 
pated, the  Federal  army  was  drawn  out  in 
battle  array  at  an  early  hour. 

Their  lines  formed  a  magnificent  semicir- 
cle, which  presented  a  formidable  front. 

General  Keyes,  with  his  command,  was 
posted  on  the  extreme  right.  General 
Franklin's  corps  came  next;  then  the  troops 
of  Sumner,  comprising  two  divisions.  The 
extreme  left  was  occupied  by  Porter. 
Heintzelman's  corps,embraeing  thedivisions 
of  Hooker,  Kearny,  and  Couch,  occupied 
the  center. 

Fifty  heavy  guns  bristled  along  the  lines 
from  their  freshly  made  earthworks. 

The  battle  commenced  about  noon  with  a 
vigorous  cannonading  on  both  sides. 

The  Confederates  Were  commanded  by 
Generals  Lee,  Magruder,  and  Jackson,  and 
opened  the  engagement  with  great  spirit. 

Several  hours  passed  before  the  infantry 
came  into  action. 

At  four  o'clock  the  rebels  advanced, 
fiercely  attacked  the  troops  commanded  by 
General  Couch,  and  attempted  to  break  the 
Federal  lines. 

The  effort  failed,  and  the  assailants  were 
driven  back  with  great  slaughter  at  the 
point  of  the  bayonet. 

They  were  not  easily  disheartened. 

After  a  short  interval  they  made  a  still 
more  desperate  effort  to  accomplish  their 
purpose. 

The  rebel  commanders  threw  forward 
heavy  masses  of  troops,  assisted  and  pro- 
tected by  artillery,  against  the  ranks  of 
Porter  and  Couch,  and  continued  for  more 
than  an  hour  to  hurl  forward  fresh  columns 
upon  the  Federal  line. 

At  one  crisis  their  determined  efforts 
seemed  about  to  be  successful  in  driving 
back  the  Federals;  but  at  that  critical  mo- 
ment Porter  dispatched  a  messenger  to 
Sumner  for  reinforcements. 

The  Irish  brigade  of  Meagher  was  immedi- 
ately sent  to  him. 

They  advanced  to  meet  the  enemy  with 
their  usual  enthusiasm. 

The  wavering  Federal  lines  were  quickly 
steadied ;  the  rebel  host  in  turn  recoiled, 
and  the  periled  fortunes  of  the  day  were  re- 
covered. 

Thus  the  flght  was  continued  until  after 
nightfall. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  last  gun  was  fired. 


During  the  progress  of  the  engagement 
the  most  signal  service  had  been  rendered 
by  the  gunboats  on  James  River. 

The  immense  shells  from  their  rifled  can- 
non tore  shrieking  and  howling  through  the 
forests,  and  often  exploded  within  the  lines 
of  the  enemy  with  a  concussion  which  shook 
the  solid  earth,  and  scattered  piles  of  dead 
and  wounded  on  every  hand. 

In  all  their  efforts    to    drive    the    Federal  " 
forcess  f rom   their  position  the  enemy  had 
signally  failed. 

After  each  advanc*  they  had  been  repulsed 
with  heavy  losses.  < 

The  battle  was  to  them  an  unqualified  de- 
feat. 

So  ended  the  engagement  at  Malvern 
Hill. 

Thus  terminated  the  last  assault  made  by 
the  troops  of  the  Confederacy  at  this  period 
upon  the  Union  army  in  the  peninsula.  Thus 
concluded  one  of  the  most  extraordinary 
series  of  battles  which  has  ever  occurred  in 
the  blood-stained  annals  of  ancient  or  mod- 
ern warfare. 

The  repose  of  the  Federal  army  at  Harri- 
son's Landing  now  remained  undisturbed 
for  more  than  a  month,  when  the  second 
battle  of  Malvern  Hill  occurred,  in  which 
General  Joe  Hooker  punished  the  enemy  and 
gained  possession  of  the  field. 

A  little  later  the  place  was  abandoned,  and 
the  rebels  resumed  occupation. 

It  had  now  become  evident  to  the  Federal 
government  that  the  expedition  against 
Richmond,  through  the  peninsula,  had  prov- 
ed a  total  and  irremediable  failure. 

It  was  quite  as  evident  that  the  longer  de- 
lay of  the  army  of  the  Union  in  that  unpro- 
pitious  clime  would  be  productive  of  no 
good,  while  it  would  entail  a  continued 
and  lavish  waste  of  the  national  treasure  and 
of  valuable  lives. 

General  McClellan,  therefore,  received  or- 
ders to  evacuate  Harrison's  Landing. 

This  order  was  obeyed  on  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  of  August,  1862. 

The  future  destination  of  the  army  was 
then  unknown. 

It  was,  however,  intended  to  be  consoli- 
dated with  the  forces  which  had  been  placed 
under  the  orders  of  General  Pope. 

This  arrangement  was  afterward  complet- 
ed ;  and  the  fortunes  of  war  were  again  tried 
under  new  auspices  against  the  despe: 
yet  by  no  means  contemptible  enemy. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ELLEN    WAYNE. 


pepper,  should  be  somewhat  strengthened, 
particularly  in  the  matter  of  cavalry,  and 
so,  several  squadrons,  heretofore  attached  to 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac — including  Burn- 
ham's  and  Ingold's  commands — were  sent  to 
him. 

Grit  Carroll,  then,  with  his  two  insepara- 
ble companions,  was  now  in  the  country  be- 
tween the  Rapidan  and  the  Rappahannock. 

Fate  had  so  ordained  that  other  important 
personages  connected  with  this,  our  vera- 
cious history,  were  also  in  that  vicinity. 

Stonewall  Jackson  had  returned  from  the 
neighborhood  of  Richmond,  and  accompany- 
ing him  were  a  portion  of  Stuart's  cavalry, 
including  the  command  in  which  Fenton 
Dunbar  was  a  lieutenant,  and  Loren  Lang- 
ford  a  minor  officer. 

The  regiment  commanded  by  Colonel 
Wayne  also  formed  a  part  of  his  column. 

Within  the  Confederate  lines,  near  the 
banks  of  the  Rapidan,  was  the  magnificent 
mansion  and  estate  known  as  Glenwood,  and 
which  was  owned  and  occupied  by  the  widow 
of  the  late  Senator  Mason,  and  her  peerless 
daughter,  Hilda,  of  whom  Colonel  Wayne 
was  guardian. 

This  hospitable  mansion  was  now  the  cen- 
ter of  unusual  life  and  gayety ;  for  not  only 
did  it  shelter  the  attractive  widow  and  her 
accomplished  daughter,  but  Ellen  Wayne 
was  there,  chaperoned,  as  usual,  by  her 
maiden  aunt,  Lydia. 

Hence,  as  a  matter  of  course,  it  was  the 
Mecca  to  which  all  Confederate  officers,  who, 
by  any  possible  means,  could  obtain  an  In- 
troduction, resorted. 

The  lovely  Ellen  had  played  her  part  well 
that  night  at  the  Chimneys,  and  had  simu- 
lated sickness  so  perfectly  that  her  aunt  had 
become  terribly  alarmed,  insomuch,  that 
she  had  insisted  upon  giving  her  a  dose  of 
not  only  very  powerful,  but  very  disagree- 
able medicine,  and  then  put  her  to  bed— a 
place  where  the  devoted  Ellen  was  glad 
enouali  to  retreat  to.  for,  no  sooner  had  she. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


i^iil. 


martyr-lilie,  swallowed  the  drug,  than  she 
was  taken  sick  in  dead  earnest,  and  so  sick 
indeed,  that  she  could  hardly  hold  her  head 

"'renton,  then,  was  left  to  carry  put  the 
plot  alone ;  and  he  at  once  bethought  him- 
self of  one  who  was  acting  as  his  orderly— a 
trusty  fellow,  wholly  devoted  to  his  inter- 

'^' He  found  him,  and  stated  the  case.  The 
.Mderly  entered  into  his  plans;  aud,  so  far 
:is  Giit  and  his  friends  are  concerned,  we 
kmnv  the  result.  . 

The  ne.xt  morning  tl>ere  was  a  terrible 
r.iiuiHis  at  the  Chimneys.  The  sentinel  who 
imd  guarded  the  iuner  door  being  found 
dead  drunk  in  the  room  where  the  prisoners 
h;id  been  confined,  aud  the  "blue-birds" 
I  liemselves  were  no  longer  in  the  cage— they 
had  Uown. 

The  sentinel  told  his  story. 

A  comrade  had  come  through  the  hallway 
about  eleven  o'clock,  aud  had  given  him  a 
driuk  of  whisky  out  of  his  canteen— after 
lliat   he  could  remember  absolutely  noth- 

\Vho  was  the  fellow  ? 

He  didn't  know— thought  it  was  one  of 
Ills  own  regiment,  but  didn't  see  his  face, 
aud  so  couldn't  swear  to  it. 

The  officers  talked  it  over,  and  at  last  de- 
cided that  it  must  have  been  thi-  Yaiik.-i' 
who  escaped,  that  he  must  liavf  i  .tuni.Ml ; 
touud  one  of  thedead  t'oiifH.lciatf's  .oats: 
(lut  it  on;  discovered  ami  imi.ar.'i  lli.' 
horses  for  the  road,  and  tin  u  [ilaycil  the 
bold  game  with  the  s  ' 

So,  after  cursing  tb 
the  whisky— a  fault ; 
liave  committed — tht 


to  dr 


Ell.- 


■1    loMlriiiking 

it    tliian  would 

was  pt-rmitted 

11  \\  cut  nil   her  way  rejoic- 

l.uiiid  li.i-  established  at 
iff  amit  and  cousin. 
.t  Stiini'wall  Jackson  in  the 
thi'  earliest  visitors  at  the 
'cutou  Dunbar,  was  Loren 
«as   now   an   orderly  ser- 

promise  of   soon   being  a 

rprise,  Loren  was  received 
',llcn,  who,  indeed,  scarcely 
iiok  any  notice  of  him  dur- 


part  he  had  played  in  the  mure 
young  lover  had"  filled  her  pure 
lietestatioii  for  the  villain,  aud,  to  1 


upper  lip  only  added  to  her  loathiug. 

Loreu'Langtord  went  away  with  a  heart 
hurniug  with  rage  and  fury. 

The  next  morning  he  met  Dunbar,  who,  in 
fact,  he  little  suspected  was  his  rival.  He 
told  him  of  the  reception  he  had  met  with 
the  night  before. 

"And  now,"  he  asked,  anxiously,  "what 
can  be  the  meaning  of  it  ?  She  can't  treat 
me  so  on  account  of  that  miserable  little 
<^ub,  Elmer  Carroll,  for  he's  dead  and  out  of 
the  way— I  happen  to  know  that,  for 
tain.    Ha-ha!" 

Dunbar,  who  from  Ellen  had  learned  all 
the  facts  of  Elmer's  death,  as  given  her  by 
Grit,  aud  confirmed  by  Newton,  fairly 
shuddered. 

"Laugford,"  he  said,  at  last,  coolly,  "you 
ask  luy  opinion,  and  to  tell  you  the  truth, 
my  opinion  really  is  that  her  knowledge  of 
your  own  connection  with  Elmer  Car- 
roll's death   accounts  for  her  treatment  of 

"  Her  knowledge!"  exclaimed  Langford. 
"  Who  in  thunder  ever  told  her  what  I  had 
to  do  with  it?"    Then,  suspiciously :  "Did 

"Certainly  not,"  answered  Fenton.  "In 
fact,  I  knew  nothing  whatever  about  it 
until  she  told  me  herself." 

"Who  did  tell  her,  then?"  growled  the 
villain.  "  If  I  only  knew  the  man  I'd  send 
him  to  his  Satanic  Majesty  so  quick  that 
he'd  never  know  what  struck  him." 

"  I  can't  tell  you.  Perhaps  your  best  plan 
would  be  to  address  the  lady  herself  upon 
the  subject,"  said  Fenton. 

Langtord    considered  for  a  moment,  and 


form  you  that  Miss  Ellen,  my  niece,  declines 
the  honor  of  seeing  you." 

Langford's  bloated  face  instantly  became 
crimson  with  rage.  , 

At  length,  suppressing  his  passion,  he 
managed  to  say  : 

"  I  would  detain  her  but  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. I  simply  wish  to  make  an  explana- 
tion—an explanation  in  connection  with  the 
death  of  a  friend  of  hers.  If  you  will  be  so 
kind  as  to  tell  her  that,  I  am  sure  she  will 
see  me."  ,         .    , 

Miss  Lydia  considered  for  a  brief  period. 
Certainly  Loren  Langford  belonged  to  a 
good  family ;  and,  perhaps,  on  the  whole,  it 
was  better  to  have  his  friendship  than  his 
ill-will,  so,  presently,  she  said : 

"  Very  well,  sir,  I  will  speak  to  her,"  and 
with  a  slight  inclination  of  the  head  she  left 
the  room. 

A  few  moments  later  Ellen  appeared,  and 
there  was  something  repelling,  both  m  her 
looks  and  voice,  as  she  said : 

"  You  have  something  to  say  to  me  about 
Elmer  Carroll,  whom  you  murdered.  Please 
say  it  in  as  few  words  as  possible,  and  relieve 
me  of  your  presence." 

"Murdered!"  exclaimed  Langford,  catch- 
ing at  that  one  word.  "He  was  no  more 
murdered  than  any  man  who  is  hanged  as  a 
deserter.  He  belonged  to  the  Caroline 
.-.luutv  ivirirapnt;  he  deserted  it  and  went 
MviT  t.)  till' I'ui'iny.  We  took  him  prisoner 
111  a  sharp  i-\ii;ageiuent  last  month;  he  was 
i^niz.dasa  i  leserter,  and  hung  by  order 
:i'iii-ial  Stuart." 

Who  recognized  him?"  asked  Ellen, 
coolly.  ,     , 

"I— I— don't  know,"  stammered  the  vil- 
lain; "some  half  a  dozen  or  more,  I  believe." 
"  Yourself  among  the  number?" 
"  Of  course,  when  I  was  asked,  as  a  Caro- 
line county  man,  if  I  knew  the  prisoner,  I 
was  obliged  to  say  Yes." 

"It  was  very  much  against  your  will  to  do 
so,  uo  doubt,"  said  Ellen,  bitterly. 

"I  know  my  duty  as  a  soldier,  Miss 
Wavne,"  retorted  the  other. 

"  Yes ;  I  am  perfectly  aware  of  the  fact— I 
suppose  you  were  also  obliged  to  assist  your 
old  schoolmate  out  of  the  world— there 
wouldn't  have  been  enough  to  have  per- 
formed that  pleasing  task  without  yon." 

Langford  bit  what  little  was  left  of  his  lip 
in  vexation  and  rage. 

"  You  appear  to  be  wonderfully  well-in- 
formed," he  sneered. 

"  I  know  the  whole  story,  sir— know  it  ex- 
actly as  it  occurred.  I  had  it  from  one  who 
made  no  mistake  in  the  gloomy  recital." 

"Will    you   give   me   his   name'?"    asked 
Langford,  fiercely. 
"No,  sir— I  will  not." 

"  He  has  slandered  me  fearfully,  and  I  de- 
mand his  name,  that  I  may  punish  him  as  he 
richly  deserves." 

"  He  told  the  simple  truth,"  rejoined  El- 
len, "and  his  story  was  corroborated  by 
another— an  eye-witness;  and,  so  far  as  I  am 
concerned,  you  shall  have  no  further  oppor- 
tunity to  shed  innocent  blood." 

"  Miss  Wayne,"  said  Langford,  suddenly 
drawing  near  her,  "you  know  quite  as  well 
as  I  can  tell  you,  that  I  love  you— have  loved 
you  for  years,  aud  that  I  wish  to  make  you 
my  wife.  Now  theu,  will  you  marry  me?" 
"  Marry  you !  No,  indeed,  sir.  I  would  die 
sooner  than  marry  such  as  you— one  whom 
I  rcard  as  not  a  whit  better  than  a  mur- 


vhere  not 


It  with: 


,  by  Jov 
ight." 


and   that,  too,  before 


That  very  afternoon  he  procured  leave  of 
absence,  aud  rode  over  to  Glenwood. 

He  asked  for  Miss  Ellen  Wayne.  Miss 
Lydia  came  in  her  stead. 

"  I  beg  pardon,  ma'am,"  said  Langford, 
rising,  "it  was  the  other  Miss  Wayne,  your 
niece,  whom  I  wished  to  see." 

"  I  aui  perfectly  aware  of  the  fact,"  said 
Miss  Lydia,  calmly;  "but,  sir,  I   beg  to  lu- 


asked 


derer." 

"  Look  out!  You  may  go  too  far,  you 
regrei  your  words  yet.  Remember, 
not  easily  balked  of  my  desires." 

"  Do  you  dare  to  threaten  me,  si 
Ellen,  scornfully.  ,    ^ 

"  I  dare  do  anything  that  tends  to  con 
tribute  to  my  comfort  or  happiness,  I " 

But  Ellen  would  hear  no  more,  and  with- 
out a  further  word  she  swept  from  the 
room.  .  .    ,    , 

"Curse  her!"  muttered  the  disappointed 
man.  "  But  I'll  bring  her  to  her  senses  yet, 
I'll  have  my  will  of  her,  and  then— ha,  ha!— 
we'll  see  if  she  won't  come  down  from  her 
high  horse,"  and,  hearing  footsteps  ap- 
proaching along  the  hallway,  he  quickly 
made  his  exit  through  one  of  the    parlor 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

VrLLAINOUS   BABOAIX. 

That  same  night,  at  about    ten    o'clock. 


Loren  Langtordlhppedout  of  the  Confeder 
ate  camp,  and  having  provided  himself  with 
a  "uide,  whom  he  found  waiting  at  an 
appointed  place,  plunged  into  the  neighbor- 
ing forest. 

After  a  weary  tramp  of  more  than  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  they  came  to  a  secret 


place  in   the  mountain  fastness, 
less  than  forty-flve  or  fifty  men  were  as- 
sembled. 

This  was  a  guerrilla  camp,  and  the  leader 

as  none  other  than  he  whom  our  old  friend 
Tim  O'Conuell  had  treated  with  such  undue 
famiUarity  some  weeks  before,  when  Fenton 
Dunbar's  party  had  come  to  the  rescue  of 
himself  and  his  friends. 

The  guerrilla  chief,  hearing  approaching 
footsteps,  instantly  started  to  his  feet,  and 
was  on  the  qxilvive,. 

"Ah!  good  evening.  Captain  Blyer!"  ex- 
claimed Langford,  as  he  drew  near.  "  Vigil- 
ant as  ever,  Isee." 

"  We  have  to  be,  sir,"  responded  the  guer- 
rilla, taking  the  other's  proffered  hand. 
"  Well,  you  are  here  then,  at  last.  I  have 
been  expecting  you  for  the  past  half  hour 

"I came  as  soon  as  I  could  manage  it," 
said  Langford  ;  "but,  the  fact  is,  I  had  some 
trouble  in  getting  away,  and  then,  the  walk- 
ing through  this  confounded  forest  isn't  the 
best  in  the  world." 

"  No ;  and  it's  a  mighty  good  thing  for  me 
that  it  isn't,"  said  Blyer. 

"  True,  I  didn't  think  of  that.  Now, 
Captain,  can  we  get  right  down  to  business— 
for  time  is  precious,  as  you  know." 

"  Yes ;  I  suppose  so.  Well,  come  over  here 
by  the  fire,  where  we  can  see  each  other's 
faces  while  we  talk,  and  you  can  tell  me  just 
what  you  want." 

Langford  followed  the  guerrilla  to  the 
fire,  and  as  he  seated  himself  near  him, 
asked : 

"Well,  what  do  you  want  to  know  m  the 
first  place?" 

"  Exactly  what  you  expect  of  us,,and  what 
you  are  willing  to  pay  for  the  job,"  respond- 
ed the  chief. 

"I'll  tell  you  in  the  fewest  possible  words," 
said  Langford.    "  You  know  Glenwood  !" 

"  Senator  Mason's  place — yes .  I  know  it." 

"Well,  there's  a  girl  stopping  in  that  house 
who  I  want  to  get  possession  of,  and  that  too, 
with  the  least  possible  delay." 

"Oho!  and  you  want  us  to  carry  her  off 
for  you?" 

"  Hum !    Well,  it  can  be  done,  I  suppose. 
How  much  will  you  pay  ?" 
"  How  much  do  you  want  for  the  job  ?" 
"  Stealing  a  girl  out  of  that  house   will 
kick  up  a  deuce  of  a  rumpus,  you  know. 
The  widow  is  a  friend  of  Stonewall  Jackson ; 
and  then,  Colonel  Wayne  is  the  guardian  of 
her  daughter— is  that  the  girl  ?" 
"No— no;  it's  the  widow's  niece  I  want." 
"Whew!"     whistled   the   guerrilla  chief. 
"  Wayne's  own  daughter!  that's  worse  yet." 
"I  don't  think  so." 

"  No ;  I  suppose  not— when  you're  making 
a  bargain  " 

"Well,  that's  the 
what's  your  price?" 
"I'll  do  it  for  a  thousand  dollars." 
"  A  thousand  dollars!" 
"Yes;  and  not  a  cent  less." 
"You  want  too  much,  Blyer,"  said  Lang- 
ford, impatiently.    "  Come  down  a  little." 

"  Impossible,  sir.  The  fact  is,  I  wouldn't 
undertake  it  for  that,  if  I  didn't  expect  to 
make  something  else  out  of  the  expedition. 
I  suppose  there's  plenty  of  plate  and  such- 
like in  the  house?" 

"Yes;  certainly— the  family's  rich,  you 
know." 

"Then  there's  the  widow's  pretty  daugh- 
ter," said  the  guerrilla,  with  a  leer;  "and  is 
there  any  other  gal  there,  sergeant?" 

"Yes,"  said  Langford,  "Miss  Millie 
Wordsworth  cauif  from  Richmond  to-day. 
She's  a  ■!  aiiki'i-  ^hl.  vou  know,  but  has  been 
in  the  ( '..nil  di  rat.-  .-apital  for  nearly  a  year. 
Her  parents  die.l  s.i  she  came  South  to  reside 
with  her  uncle,  her  only  livingrelative." 

"Ah!  yes;  I've  seen  her;  but  I  prefer 
Miss  Hilda,  she's  more  to  my  taste.  Come, 
Langford,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  See 
yonder?" 
"The  opening  there?  Y'es." 
"Well,  there's  as  nice  a  hiding  place  as  can 
be  found  anywhere  in  these  mountains. 
That  cave  contains  no  less  than  a  dozen 
apartments.  A  whole  regiment  could  hide 
there,  and  remain  in  perfect  security  for  a 
lifetime.  Now  theu,  give  me  one  thousand 
dollars,  and  the  privilege  of  bringing  off  the 
other  two  girls,  and  all  the  treasure  the 
house  contains,  and  I'll  secure  your  charm- 
er, bring  her  here,  and  keep  her  in  safety, 
where  you,  and  you  alone,  can  visit  her,  un- 
til she's  perfectly  willing  to  remain  with  you 
without  any  fuss,  wherever  you  may  see  fit 
to  keep  her. 

"  All  right,"  said  Langford,  after  a  mo- 
ment's consideration,  "  it's  a  bargain.  Now 
when  can  you  undertake  the  job?" 


girl  I 


-and  nov 


20 


/i  S' 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


"  How  would  to-morrow  night  do  ?"  asked 
Blyer. 

"Make  it  the  next  night,"  said  Langlord' 
"  by  that  time  I  shall  have  the  rhino  ready.', 

"Very  good;  we'll  be  ready  then.  By  the 
way,  you'll  bear  us  company  ?" 

"  Then,  everything's  settled." 
"Yes;  and,   now,  I'll  return  to  my  quar- 
ters.   "^Vhere's  that  guide?" 
"  Over  yonder,  waiting  for  you." 
"  Ah,  yes,  I  see;  and,  now,  good-night!" 
"Good-night!" 
The  two  consummate  villains  parted. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

THE  ABDUCTION. 

Two  days  passed.    Tlie  second  night  came. 

There  had  been  quite  a  gathering  of  gray- 
coated  officers  in  Mrs.  Mason's  drawing- 
rooms,  but  now  nearly  all  were  gone — in 
fact,  but  two  remained.  Colonel  Wayne, 
Elli'ii's  futlici-,  and  her  would-be  lover, 
Lieutiiuiut  I'lutdii  Dunbar. 

All  hail  1  ctiit'd  to  a  cozy  little  apartment, 
designated  )■>-  Mrs.  Mason  as  the  snuggery, 
and  Colonel  Woyne  had  just  finished  a  glass 
of  old  wine,  which,  as  he  said,  he  had  taken 
to  fortify  himself  for  the  road. 

There  had  been  a  moment  of  silence,  which 
the  colonel  now  broke. 

"Come,  Feuton,  my  boy,"  he  exclaimed, 
suddenly  starting  to  his  feet,  "  if  you're 
quite  through  ogling  that  trio  of  pretty  girls, 
we'll  be  going." 

"Oh,  papa!"  cried  Ellen,  "why  do  you 
leave  us  so  soon  ?  It's  but  little  past  eleven  ; 
I'm  sure  you  might  stay  another  hour.  Re- 
member, you  didn't  come  near  us  at  all  last 
night." 

"(>i]ly:i  littli'  past  i-li-veu,  eh ?"  laughed 
hei'  tat  her,  as  ti.>  ti.x.k  nut  liis  watch.  "Now, 
this  lui'lty  litllf  initli-trllcr  says  it's  two 
minute-ito  twelve,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder 
if  you  heard  the  clock  strike  in  even  less 
liiiio  than  that.  In  fact,  I  shouldn't  won- 
der    Eh?     What    the    deuce    was    that, 

Fenton?" 

Captain  Dunbar  was  already  on  his  feet. 

"It  was  a  shot  sir,"  he  said;  "and,  of 
course,  comes  from  an  enemy." 

With  flushed  cheeks  he  sprung  to  the 
window. 

"Colonel."  he  exclaimed,  a  moment  later, 
while  making  a  great  effort  to  appejir  calm, 
"  we  are  beiug  surrounded.  We've  got  to 
fight  for  it  or  be  taken  prisoners;  now, 
which  shall  it  be?" 

"How  many  are  there?  Letme  see,"  and 
the  colonel  cautiously  peered  forth  from  the 
window. 

"Ten— twelve— thirteen,"  he  muttered, 
"on  this  side,  and  I  suppose  as  many  more 
oueaeh  I'f  the  otliers— say  fifty  in  all,  and 
only  lis  r,v<.  and  a  few  niggers  to  oppose 
them.     IliMn'    I  lie  thing  looks  blue  enough 

"Ne'veVl'heie.-s,'-  'exelanned  Feulon,  "I'm 
for  li;:litin-  tlieni,  sir-ami  tliat  to  the 
deatli."  and  then,    in  a    l.uv  wliisper-,  he  add- 


hert 


jt  girls,  i£   those   outside  ga 


'Right,  by  Jove!"  cried  the  colonel.  "Let 
us  close  and  fasten  every  door  and  window, 
and  defend  the  place  as  long  as  we  can 
stand.  Quick!  quick!— or  it  will  be  too 
late." 

Alas!  it  was  already  too  late.  The  assail- 
ants were,  even  then,  forcing  their  way  into 
the  house. 

Crack !— crack ! 

Down  went  a  negro  servant,  and  a  bullet 
lodged  in  the  wall,  after  passing  through  a 
picture,  just  above  the  colonel's  head. 

Crack!— crack! 

Another  servant  fell,  and  a  beautiful  vase 
on  a  stand  liy  Mrs.  Mason's  side  was  shat- 
tered to  fragments. 

At  least,  a'dozen  of  the  enemy  were  now  in 
the  adjoining  room. 

"Thunder  and  blazes!"  suddenly  exclaim- 
ed the  colonel,  "these  are  not  Yankees— 
they  are  ourown  people!" 

"Ah!  I  understand  now,"  said  Fenton 
Dunbar,  bitterly,  "they  are  our  own  peo- 
ple, but  ten  times  more  to  be  feared  than 
the  worst  Yankees  that  ever  crossed  the 
Potomac.  They  are  Blyer's  guerrillas,  and 
—yes  !  I  thought  so ;  there's  Sergeant  Lang- 
ford,  of  the  Caroline  county  cavalry,  among 
them.    They  have  come  at  his  bidding,  and 


then! 


ment,  at  tl 

the  room,  with  a  dozen  men  at  his  back— 
"  now,  then,  I  say,  surrender— the  whole  kit 
of  you.  There's  no  use  of  your  holding  out 
for  another  moment.    There's  only  two  men 


among  you— while  we  number  more  than 
fifty.  Come,  we've  no  time  to  spend  in  fool- 
ing, for  we're  bound  to  gut  this  place,  and 
wo  want  to  get  through  and  dig  out  before 

'■■No,  sir  I  Xever  will  we  sui  render  to 
surli  as  ynn,"  nieil  Colonel  Wayne,  leveling 
a  levdlver  at  the  guerrilla  chief's  head. 

Crack  I 

But  Blyer  had  sprung  to  one  side  just  in 
time  to  save  his  worthless  life,  and  the  bul- 
let penetrated  the  brain  of  the  man  directly 
behind  him,  who  fell  heavily  to  the  floor. 

With  a  howl  of  rage  the  guerrillas  sprung 
upon  the  two  Confederate  officers,  and  in 
less  than  a  minute  there  were  at  least  twenty 
of  them  in  the  room. 

Still,  for  a  time  they  fought  well  and  des- 
perately, each  killing  two  men,  and  wound- 
ing no  less  than  eight  between  them. 

But  the  odds  were  too  great,  and  at  length 
Colonel  Wayne  fell  bleeding  to  the  floor, 
and  Dunbar  was  knocked  senseless  with  the 
butt  of  a  carbine. 

This  ended  the  fight. 

Five  minutes  later  all  in  and  about  the 
house  had  been  secured. 

"  How  many  prisoners  are  there  in  all?" 
asked  Blyer  of  his  lieutenant. 

"  The  two  officers  and  five  white  women, 
an'  mor'n  twenty  niggers— half  on  'em 
wenches,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Hum,  that's  more  than  we  can  accom- 
modate up  yonder,  ain't  it,  lieutenant?" 

"  Yes,  cap'n,  a  durned  sight." 

"  Then  parade  such  o'  ther  darkies  as  we've 
no  use  for,  and  blow  'em  to  kingdom-come 
—dead  men  tell  no  tales;  and  this  night's 
work  mustn't  get  to  Stonewall  Jackson's 
ears,  that's  certain." 

As  incredible  as  it  must  seem,  this  cruel 
order  was  carried  out,  eleven  negroes  being 
shot  dead  in  front  of  the  mansion. 

The  house  was  then- to  borrow  the  elegant 
term  used  by  fhegiierrillachief— thoroughly 
gutted.  The  prisoners  were  securely  bound, 
and  the  party  at  once  retreated  to  the  moun- 
tain fastness. 

The  night  of  terror  wore  away. 

The  morning  dawned. 

The  glorious  orb  of  day  rose  higher  and 
still  higher  in  the  heavens,  and  cast  his 
golden  rays  upon  what  had  been  beautiful, 
hospitable  Glenwood;  but  now,  alas!  how 
changed ! 

Fences  torn  down,  the  negro  quarters— to 
make  sure  that  not  one  of  those  who  might 
otherwise  carry  the  dreadful  news  to  Jack- 
son escaped— burned  and  lying  a  heap  of 
ruins,  the  garden  trampled  over,  the  house 
dismantled  and  plundered,  and  liefmc  tlie 
open  door  and  gaping  wiiid.uvs  a  heaii  of 
murdered  blacks  piled  up,  wlule  still  an- 
other lies  stretched  across  the  threshold. 

Only  last  night  the  place  was  alive  with 
joyous  song,  and  the  walls  of  the  house 
"fairly  shook  with  laughter."  But  now 
how  still  the— stillness  of  death  is  upon  it. 

An  hour  pas-ed. 

Suddenly  llnre  seemed  to  be  a  slight 
movement  in  tie- adjacent  forest,  and  after 
a  short  inler\al  lonr  men  appeared  at  the 
edge  of  the  woods  and  crouched  behind  a 
neighboring  wall. 

"  Don't  see  a  mortal  soul  about  the  place," 
whispered  one ;"  and  I  should  think  from 
the  stillness,  that  nobody  was  up  yet." 
Then,  after  a  pause  :  "  I'll  give  just  one  cull, 
perhaps  my  old  fi  and  Sc  ip  will  answer," 
and  the  speaker  gaye  a  qniek  sharp  whistle, 
which  the  opposite  liills  sent  back  in  echo. 

There  was  no  other  auswer. 

"Something's  wrong.  Grit,"  said  another 
of  the  party,  "  you  can  restassured  of  that.'' 

"I  fear  so,  too,"  rejoined  the  Union  scout; 
for  it  was  Grit  himself  and  his  companions. 
Then,  after  another  ineffectual  call : 

"  We  must  manage  to  get  around  to  the 
back  of  the  negro  quarters  by  skirting  the 

"But  can  we  do  that?"  asked  Charley 
Clayton. 

"  We'll  try,"  was  the  brief  answer,  and 
they  set  out  at  a  rapid  pace. 

Soon  they  had  accomplished  their  pur- 
pose, and  were  close  upon  the  spot  where 
the  quarters  had  been. 

Then  (iiit  ('arioll  ;;ave  utterance  to  an 
exclamatii f  eensteination  and  rage. 

"Whose  werk  is  this?"  he  cried.  "  I  must 
know,  and  that  right  speedily." 

"Great  Heavens!  "  he  exclaimed  the  next 
moment,  "look  at  the  house— the  windows 
are  broken,  and  all  the  doors  stand  open. 
Come,  there's  little  fear  of  our  meeting  any 
oue;  let  us  follow  up  this  mystery  to  the 
end  of  the  chapter,"  and  with  strange  feel- 

gs  tugging  at  their  hearts  they  hurried  to- 


ward the  mans 
They    entered    by  the  back    door. 


They 


soon  found  the   snuggery,   and  came  upon 
evidences  of  strife. 

The  guerrillas  had  been  careful  to  remove 
their  own  dead  and  wounded,  butstill  it  was 
easy  to  see  that  there  had  been  hard  fight- 
ing in  that  very  room,  as  the  blood  upon  the 
floor  aud  the  shattered  ornaments  and  per- 
forated walls  betokened. 
Then  Tom  Merrett  came  upon  the  dead  body 
of  a  negro  servant  in  the  hallway,  aud  a  mo- 
ment later  Charley  Clayton  gave  a  cry  of 
horror  and  consternation  from  the  front 
door. 

All  hastened  thither. 

"My  God,  this  is  awful!"  exclaimed  Sid 
Newton. 

"It's  more  than  that— it's  fiendish!"  said 
Grit,  with  quivering  lips;  "and  if  I  don't 
find  out  something  more  about  it  soon  I  shall 
go  mad." 

At  that  moment  Sid,  who  had  approached 
the  heap  of  murdered  blacks,  gave  utter- 
ance to  an  exclamation  of  surprise,  and 
dropped  upon  his  knees  before  the  repulsive 
pile. 

Grit  hastened  forward. 

"  What  is  it,  Sid?"  he  asked. 

"I  ain't  quite  certain.  Grit;  but  I  think 
this  old  man  has  some  life  in  him  vet,"  was 
the  reply. 

"Godgrant  you  may  be  right!  "  and  Grit 
fell  upon  his  knees  by  his  side. 

Soon  the  other  bodies  were  lifted  away, 
and  the  one  that  had  attracted  Sid's  atten- 
tion was  raised  up. 

"Seipio!"  exclaimed  Grit,  "  Great  Heav- 
ens! I  am  sorry  for  this.  But,  see,  there 
really  is  some  life  in  him.  We  may  be  able 
to  save  him  yet." 

"  At  least,"  said  Tom,  "  we  can  bring  him 
around  long  enough  to  tell  us  whose  bloody 
work  this  is,  so  that  we  may  have  the  satis- 
faction of  avenging  him  and  all  the  dead 
here." 

"Yes— yes;  we'll  avenge  him.  Ay,  and 
what  vengeance  we'll  wreak  upou  the  cow- 
ardly murderers!"  and,  while  he  was  speak- 
ing. Grit  had  taken  a  flask  from  his  pocket, 
which  he  now  held  to  the  old  negro's  lips. 

After  awhile  tin?  poor  creature  revived, 
and  uttered  a  feehle  moan  of  pain. 

Th<'ii  he  ,,|ieni  i|  Ills  eyes,  and  they  rested 
uponlliil,  «iiM  I',  lis  bending  over  him. 

"Masr  (aiieli:  '  he  exclaimed,  while  a 
look  of  pleasure  lit  up  his  dusky  face. 

"Yes,  it's  me,  Scip — come  to  save  you," 
said  the  scout,  tenderly.  "Where  are  you 
hurt,  my  poor  fellow  ?" 

"No  use — no  use;  too  late,  Mas'r  Carroll," 
sighed  the  old  man.  "  Grim  Def  hab  done 
gone  got  me.  shuah.  But  I's  mighty  glad 
you'se  come  afore  de  good  Lord  tuk  me,  cos 
yer  may  be  able  to  help  de  young  missus  an' 
hermudder." 

"  Yes— yes;  tell  us  all  about  if,  Scip — that 
is,  if  you  have  streugth  to  do  so.  Who 
robbed  the  house  and  killed  or  carried  off  all 
the  inmates?" 

"Degood  Lord  will  give  me  strength  to 
tell  yer,  Mas'r  Carroll.  It  war  Cap'n  Blyer 
an'  his  band  o'  thieves;  an'  dar  was  a  Coii- 
fedei-ate  sojer  wid  'em  dat  seemed  like  he 
war  a  kind  o'  boss." 

"  Who  was  he — who  was  he  ?"  asked  Grit, 
eagerly. 

"  Beckon  I  used  ter  see  him  down  in  your 
country,  Mas'r  Carroll;  but  den  dar  wasn't 
de  mark  o'  Cain  upon  his  brow,  an'  his  upper 
lip  wa'n't  gone." 

"Ah-h-h!  Loren  Langford!"  hissed  the 
scout,  between  his  tightly  clinched  teeth. 

"  Dat's  him— dat's  him,  sah,  shuah  !"  said 
the  negro,  excitedly.  "  Dat's  what  I  hearn 
young  Mas'r  Dunbar  call  him,  I  'member 
now." 

"  Was  Fenton  Dunbar  here?" 

"  Yes,  sah ;  an"  de  colonel,  too,  'spects  dey's 
killed  him;  leastwise  he  war  bleediu'  pow- 
erful when  I  seed  him  last." 

"And— and  Miss  Hilda— the  girls  ?  " 

"'Spects  dey's  carried 'em  all  off,  Mas'r 
Carroll." 

".Sid— Tom — Charley!"  cried  thescout, ex- 
citedly, "  we  must  do  something  for  this 
poor  fellow.  He  must  tell  his  story  to  Stone- 
wall .Tackson,  and  when  he's  heard  it,  it  he 
don't  root  out  that  murdering  baud  of  out- 
laws, why,  I'm  mistaken,  tliafsall." 

"No  use,  Mas'r  (arndl,  no  use,"  mur- 
mured the  old  nes:ro.  "Degood  Lord  am 
callin'  fur  me  ;  eben  now  I  hear  his  glorious 
voice.  Yes,  Lor',  I's  comin'— I'scomin'!"  and 
throwing  up  his  arms  poor  Scip  fell  back 
dead. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE    U.ITTLE    OF   CEDAI!    MurXT.UX. 

It  was  now  the  first  week  in  August,  and 
the  military  authorities  at  Washington  hav- 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


r>y-/ 


21 


Ing  obtained  authentii 


uudf 


:  information,  which 
lie  (,'oufederaf e  gen- 
loiMiidable  force  for 
:  tlieariuy  oommand- 
ncl,  ailvancing  to  the 
hiiigtou  or  of  Baltl- 
o  summon  the  forces 
Western  Virginia,  to 
Me  dispatch,  and  di- 
ll pepper  at  once,  and 


reeled  liini  tuiv 
threaten  Gordo 
Thi3  movement  instantly  excited   the  ap- 
,  prehensions  of  the  rebel  leaders. 

Jackson  and  Ewell  immediately  called  in 
all  their  forces,  and  prepared  to  cross  the 
Rapidau  at  Barnett's  Ford. 
Among  others  whom  this  andden  and  un- 
'  expected  movement  peremptorily  recalled 
to  their  duty  was  Loren  Langford.  Captain 
Blyer  too  received  an  intimation  that  his 
own,  and  the  services  of  his  band,  for  a  few 
days  would  be  highly  acceptable,  and  a  fur- 
ther intimation  reached  him  that  he 
had  better  not  slight  this  urgent  invitation. 
The  cave  then,  and  the  several  prisoners 
therein  confined,  were  left  in  charge  of  a 
dozen  or  more  men,  while  the  guerrilla  chief, 
at  the  head  of  some  forty  odd  thieves  and 
cutthroats,  rode  off  to  join  Jackson's 
column. 

Thus,  for  a  few  days,  Ellen,  her  cousin, 
and  their  friend,  were  relieved  of  the  pres- 
ence of  their  tormentors. 

All  their  arrangements  being  perfected, 
Jackson  and  EwelT  crossed  the  Rapidan,  ap- 
proached the  position  occupied  by  the  corps 
of  General  Banks,  near  Cedar  Mountain,  and 
on  Saturday,  the  ninth  day  of  August,  a 
battle  was  fought  between  the  two  armies, 
scarcely  second  in  fury  and  stubbornness  to 
any  which  had  occurred  during  the  war. 

The  point  at  which  this  fearful  contest 
took  place  was  about  five  miles  south  of  Cul- 
pepper Court  House,  on  the  road  to  Gor- 
donsville. 

The  enemy  took  their  position  on  the  side 
of  Cedar  Mountain,  where  they  were  pro- 
tected in  a  large  degree  by  thick  forests. 
They  numbered  at  least  twenty-five  thou- 
sand men. 

The  advantages  of  their  position  were  very 
great,  for  it  commanded  a  full  view  of  the 
operations  of  the  Federal  troops  below 
them,  and  enabled  them  to  post  their  bat- 
teries in  several  successive  tiers,  semicircu- 
lar in  their  outliTie,  by  which  they  could 
simultaneously  cannonade  the  whole  body 
of  their  assailants. 

The  positiou  of  the  latter  was  completely 
exposed  to  the  enemy,  having  no  advantage 
of  natural  or  artificial  defense  whatever. 

On  the  day  previous  to  the  battle,  the  bri- 
gade of  General  Crawford  had  been  thrown 
forward  to  observe  the  movements  of  the 
enemy,  and  oppose  his  advance.  General 
Banks  occupied  this  position  with  his  entire 


corps  on  the  day  of  the  engagement. 

Bickett's  division  of  McDo^' 

three  miles  in  his  rear. 


jwell's  corps  ' 


The  <!orps  of  Sigel,  which  had  been  march- 
ing during  all  the  night  preceding  the  bat- 
tle, was  allowed  to  halt  in  Culpepper  to  re- 
cruit for  a  few  hours. 

Thus  the  engagement  commenced  between 
the  enemy  and  the  corps  of  Banks,  which 
comprised  about  seven  thousand  men. 

The  combat  opened  with  an  artillery  duel, 
at  a  quarter-past  two  o'clock  in  the  aiter- 

It  was  at  once  evident  that  the  rebels  pos- 
sessed an  immense  superiority  in  the  num- 
ber of  their  guns. 


of  their  position;  but  the  greater  accuracy 
of  their  aim  was  equally  apparent. 

In  an  hour,  one  of  the  rebel's  six  batteries 
was  silenced. 

The  Federals  then  closed  up  their  lines  on 
the  right  and  left,  and  advanced  toward  the 
enemy. 

The  left  wing  having  approached  two  hun- 
dred yards  nearer  than  their  first  position, 
lay  flat  on  the  ground,  while  the  contest  be- 
tween the  artillery  continued,  so  that  the 
deluge  of  shot  discharged  by  the  foe  passed 
over  them  harmlessly,  though  they  could 
not  escape  the  effects  of  their  bursting 
shells. 

At  four  o'clock,  another  of  their  batteries 
was  silenced. 

At  that  moment,  they  advanced  from 
their  position,  and  made  a  bold  attempt  to 
flank  the  left  of  the  Federals.  This  move- 
ment was  repelled  and  defeated  by  the  gal- 
lant advance  of  Geary's  brigade. 

At  half-past  four,  the  troops  under  Gen- 
erals Prince,  Green,  and  Geary,  were  order- 
ed to  charge  the  batteries  of  the  enemy  on 
the  left.    As  the  Federals  approached  they 


were  assailed  with  a  terrific  storm  of  shot 
and  shell,  which  might  well  have  appalled 
even  veteran  warriors. 

As  they  approached  the  base  of  themoun- 
tain,  the  rebels,  whom  the  woods  till  then 
had  concealed,  rushed  forward  in  immense 
numbers,  and  attacked  the  Federals  with 
musketry.  The  latter  were  mowed  down 
like  grain  before  the  reaper;  but  still  they 
advanced  without  flinching. 


them  there  firmly. 

But  soon  heavy  reinforcements  of  infantry, 
consisting  of  about  eight  regiments,  enabled 
the  rebels  to  overpower  the  heroes  before 
them,  and  compelled  them  eventually  to  re- 
tire. 

This  movement  they  accomplished  quietly 
and  in  good  order. 

It  was  now  half-past  six,  and  the  engage 
ment  became  general.  It  was  marked  bj 
special  fury  on  the  Federal  right  wing. 

During  more  than  an  hour  the  most  san- 
guinary slaughter  was  inflicted  here  by  both 
sides. 

At  one  time  the  enemy  were  successful 
surrounding  the  right  flank  by  the  use  of  an 
artlflee   scarcely  excusable  by  the  laws  of 
honorable  warfare. 

Hoisting  the  stars  and  stripes,  a  large  body 

suddenly  emerged  from  the  woods  in  such  a 

position  as  to  assume  the  appearance  of  a 

reinforcement  to  the  Federals. 

he  latter  wer 

"Thank  God! 
ham— who,  with  his  whole  comrhand  were 
acting  as  infantry— as  he  saw  the  glorious 
flag;  "there  comes  welcome  aid  at  last!" 

"Don't  you  be  too  sure  of  that,  major," 
said  Grit  Carroll,  who  was  by  his  side,  "  those 
demons  are  mean  enough  to  play  any  trick ; 
and,  if  I'm  not  greatly  mistaken,  it's  the 
enemy;  and  Blyer's  guerrillas  are  aAong 
them." 

But  Burnham  and  the  other  Federal  otH- 
cers  felt  sure  that  the  advancing  column 
was  composed  of  friends  coming  to  reinforce 
them,  and  so  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  shrewd 
scout. 

"  Come!"  exclaimed  Grit,  hurriedly  catch- 
ing hold  of  Sid  Newton  and  Tom  Merrett, 
when  he  saw  there  was  no  use  saying  any 
more  to  the  ofiicers.   "  Where's  Charley  ? " 

"The  major's  sent  him  with  a  message  to 
General  Banks,"  said  Tom. 

"  Then  we  can't  wait  for  him.  I  tell  you, 
boys,  we  must  get  in  a  few  shots  yonder. 
Do  you  see  that  stone  wall  ?" 

"  Yes— yes !"  responded  his  companions. 

"Well;  we'll  plant  ourselves  behind  that. 
It's  a  good  thing  we've  dismounted  just  now. 
Come,  I  say  "—and  the  three  hurried  to  the 
shelter  of  the  friendly  wall. 

The  enemy  approached  nearer  and  nearer, 
and  soon  it  was  seen  that  they  were  prepar- 
ing to  pour  in  a  volley  on  the  Federal  lines. 

Now  was  the  time  for  the  scout  and  his 
companions  to  get  in  their  best  work. 

"Wait ! ' '  exclaimed  Grit.suddenly. '  'There's 


asked  Grit  of  his 
crouching  comrades,  as  he  thrust  his  own 
carbine  through  a  hole  in  the  wall. 

"All  ready!"  wasthe  answer. 

"Then  here  goes! "—and instantly  a  report 
rang  out,  and  Loren  Langford  was  seen  to 
fall. 

With  a  low  but  exultant  shout,  Sid  and 
Tom  leveled  their  weapons  and  flred. 

The  guerrilla  chief's  left  hand  dropped  the 
bridle  and  fell  useless  by  his  side,  while  his 
lieutenant  tumbled  from  his  horse  like  a 
sack  lit  meal. 

Again  and  again  the  three  brave  men  put 
in  their  work;  and  with  them  every  shot 
told ;  none  were  really  wasted.  If  they 
didn't  kill  outright,  they  wounded,  and  that 
was  nearly  as  well. 

By  this  time  the  enemy  had  approached  so 
near  the  Federal  lines  that  they  were  able  to 
inflict  upon  them  a  destructive  volley  of 
musketry. 

Convinced  by  this  argument  of  the  great 
mistake  they  had  made,  the  Union  troops  in- 
stantly returned  the  salute,  and  charged 
upon  the  foe  with  such  ferocity  as  to  break 
their  ranks  and  compel  them  to  retreat  in 
the  utmost  disorder  behind  their  first  po- 
sition. 

As  night  approached  the  contest  became 
more  and  more  furious. 

General  Banks  still  held  the  position  which 
he  occupied  in  the  morning. 

At  seven  o'clock  General  Pope  arrived 
upon  the  field,  and  sent  an  order  to  General 
McDowell  to  advance  General  Rickett's  di- 


engagement  as  soon  as  possible. 

Rickett's  division  being  close  at  hand, 
was  quickly  upon  the  field,  and  took  up 
their  position  on  the  right. 

The  battle  was  then  renewed  with  greater 
desperation  and  destructiveness  than  be- 
fore. 

It  did  not  long  continue,  in  consequence 
of  the  spread  of  the  partial  darkness  of 
night  over  the  scene. 


fantry  and  cavalry  terminated,  the  rebels 
drove  back  the  Federal  troops  for  a  consid- 
erable distance,  and  occupied  their  position. 
But  during  the  night  the  enemy  receded  up 
the  mountain  to  their  fastnesses,  and  on  the 
following  day  occupied  a  line  of  defense 
still  nearer  to  its  summit. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

DEATH   OF   LOEEN   LANGFORD. 

Meanwhile,  when  the  rebel  troops  that  had 
come  up  under  false  colors  had  been  driven 
back.  Grit  Carroll  sprung  eagerly  toward 
the  spot  where  he  had  seen  his  arch-enemy 
go  down. 

After  a  few  minutes'  search,  he  found 
him,  and  one  glance  told  him  he  was  not 
dead. 

Lifting  him  in  his  strong  arms  as  he  would 
an  infant,  he  bore  him  forward,  and  quickly 
gained  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  where  he 
threw  him  upon  the  ground. 

The  pain  caused  by  this  somewhat  rough 
treatment  restored  the  wounded  villain  to 
his  senses,  and  as  he  opened  his  eyes  he  saw 
Grit  Carroll  bending  over  him. 

Instantly  a  look  of  terror  came  into  his 
face. 

"  Ah  !  you  know  me  then,  do  you— you 
miserable,  cowardly  villain?"  hissed  the 
scout. 

"Yes,  yes— you  are  Clinton  Carroll,  cit 
Caroline  county,"  muttered  Langford. 

"  I  am,"  said  Grit,  sternly ;  "and  you  are 
the  murderer  of  my  brother."  I 

"I  never  murdered  him,"  muttered  the 
other.  "  He  was  hung  by  Stuart's  orders,  as 
a  deserter." 

"Yes;  but  through  your  instrumentalitv. 
I  know  the  whole  story.  One  who  heard 
and  saw  all  is  even  now  close  by  your  side." 

The  wounded  man  quickly  turned,  and 
saw  Sid  Newton. 

"Ah!  I  remember  him,"  he  said,  after  a 
close  scrutiny. 

"You  made  a  bargain  with  the  guerrilla 
chief  Blyer  to  attack  the  house  of  the  Widow 
Mason,  and  carry  off  all  the  inmates.  Where 
are  they  now?  " 

Langford  set  his  teeth  hard  and  did  not 

Grit,  with  a  fearful  light  in  his  eye,  drew 
a  revolver,  and  after  cocking  it,  placed  the 
muzzle  close  to  the  villain's  head. 

"  Where  are  they?"  he  demanded,  in  a 
terrible  voice. 

"I  won'ttell.  Ha,  ha!  I  can  balk  you, 
even  in  death,"  exclaimed  Langford. 

Once  more,  and  for  the  last  time,   where 


they?"  demanded  the  scout, 
mgiord's  right  hand  quickly  slipped  to 
his  side;  as  quickly  it  laid  hold  of  the  handle 


of  his  knife;  the  next  instant,  with  the  yell 
of  a  fiend,  he  started  from  the  ground  and 
fell  upon  the  scout. 

His  knife  passed  through  the  sleeve  of 
Grit's  coat,  slightly  wounding  the  arm  he 
iuvoluntarily  raised  to  protect  himself; 
then,  a  pistol-shot  rung  out,  and  the  misera- 
ble villain  fell  back  dead,  with  a  bullet  in 
his  brain. 

"  Only  one  more  of  the  murderers  left  tn 
kill,"  was  Grit's  calm  comment. 

"  Carroll,  Newton,  Merrett- the  major 
wants  you  three,  and  Charley  Clayton,  for 
a  special  service,  to  be  undertaken  immedi- 
ately. He  thinks  no  one  else  can  do  it. 
You'll  find  him  at  the  edge  of  the  woods 
yonder;"  and  the  orderly  who  brought  this 
message,  rode  quickly  away. 

"Come!"  said  thesoout;  "we  must  be  off; 
Uncle  Sam's  business  must  be  looked  after 
first;  we'll  finish  up  mine  afterward.  Why 
don't  you  come  along,  Tom  ?" 

It's  just  occurred  to  me,"  responded 
Tom,    in    a   matter-of-fact   tone,    "that   it 

ght  be  just  as  well  to  go  through  this 
dead  scoundrel's  clothes,  they  may  contain 
""■"ethiug  of  interest  to  you." 

ih  !  do  so ;  and  bring  away  whatever 
you  may  happen  to  find  with  you.  I'll 
hurry   to    the   major    at    once.     Since   he 


22 


6~<i~6 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


mounted  (he  gold  leaves,  he  likes  to  be  kept 
waiting  less  than  ever." 

"Go  ahead,  then,  and  I'll  be  with  you  in 
almost  less  than  no  time,"  and,  kneeling  by 
the  dead  man's  side,  Tom  quickly  begun  his 
search. 

He  found  several  things  of  value  and  im- 
portance—among tiiem  ii'letter. 

"Ah!"  he  exclaimed,  when  he  had  read 
this,  "  Grit  will  like  to  see  this,  sure.  I  must 
hunt  him  up  at  once." 

He  found  him. 

Grit  read  the  letter,  and  put  it  carefully 
away  in  his  pocket.  Fifteen  minutes  later, 
the  four  friends  wc-re  on  the  road  to  Culpep- 


als  nor  Confederates  seemed  disposed  to  re- 
new the  engagement. 

The  desperate  struggles  which  had  already 
taken  place,  the  overpowering  heat  of  the 
weather,  the  immense  number  of  dead  and 
wounded  of  both  armies,  whose  bodies  cov- 
ered the  plain  below  and  the  mountain 
above,  who  must  be  cared  for,  removed,  or 
buried,  rendered  it  indispensable  that  the 


Durii;;;  Si 
forces  wi-ic 
corps  of  (ieuerai  i;;inks. 

It  was  then  couhdeutly  expected  that  the 
battle  would  be  renewed,  and  an  attempt 
made  to  dislodge  the  enemy  from  their 
position  on  the  mountain.  But,  during 
Monday  night  they  voluntarily  withdrew 
from  their  stronghold  and  crossed  the  Rapi- 
dan. 

General  Buford  was  sent  forward  with 
four  regiments  of  cavalry  in  pursuit,  to 
watch  their  movements,  and  ascertain  their 
route. 

Many  of  the  rebel  dead  were  left  un- 
buried ;  many  of  their  wounded  were  altan- 
doned  by  their  departing  comrades  to  their 
fate. 

The  Federals  lost  in  this  battle,  in  killed, 
wounded,  and  missing,  about  two  thousand. 

The  loss  of  the  rebels  was  at  least  three 
thousand  in  killed  and  wounded  alone. 

The  struggle  was  one  of  unusual  fierceness 
and  determination  on  both  sides. 

The  ground  was  covered  for  several  miles 
with  the  kiUed  and  maimed,  whose  great 
numbers  and  horrible  mutilations  attested 
the  sanguinary  nature  of  the  contest. 

The  ground,   in  innumerable  places,  was 


enemy. 

It  was,  therefore,  an  honor  to  the  Federal 
troops  engaged,  under  such  great  disadvan- 
tages of  number  and  position,  that  by  their 
heroism  and  fortitude,  it  they  had  not  won 
a  complete  and  perfect  victory,  they  had  at 
least  fought  at  C«dar  Mountain  a  drawn 
battle. 


CHAPTER  XXVn. 

THE  FATE  or  THE  PKISONEES  IS  SETTLED. 

The  time  passed  wearily  to  the  prisoners 
in  the  hands  of  the  guerrillas. 

The  women  were  in  an  apartment  by 
themselves,  while  Colonel  Wayne  and  Fen- 
ton  Dunbar  were  each  conflued  separately. 

Fenton  had  managed,  by  bribing  one  of 
the  rascals,  to  let  the  colonel  know  that  the 
place  of  his  confinement  was  near  the  room 
occupied  by  the  ladies,  and  that  he  thought, 
should  any  violence  be  offered  them,  he 
could  penetrate  to  their  apartment,  and  so 
hrip  to  defend  them. 

He  was  the  more  inclined  to  believe  he 
could  do  them  good  service,  he  informed 
,  him,  as  he  had  had  the  good  fortune  to  pick 
I  up  a  keen-edged  knife,  that  had  been  acci- 
( dentally  dropped  by  one  of  the  guerrillas, 
and  which  he  now  kept  constantly  about  his 
person. 

This  information  con  veyed  a  scrap  of  com- 
fort to  the  fond  father's  soul ;  and  for  a  brief 
period  he  was  somewhat  more  at  ease. 

The  battle  of  Cedar  Mountain  was  fought, 
the  rebels  retreated,  and  the  guerrillas  were 
permitted  to  return  to  their  fastness. 

On  the  night  of  their  return,  the  chief, 
whose  left  hand  was  supported  by  a  sling, 
held  some  conversation  with  his  new  lieu- 
tenant, and  a  sensual-looking  Confederate 
officer  from  Richmond,  who  had  accom- 
panied them  to  the  cave. 

They  had  seated  themselves  about  a  small 
table  in  the  back  part  of  the  main  apart- 
ment, and  almost  directly  before  the  place 
where  the  colonel  was  confined,  hence,  he 
could  not  but  hear  every  word  they  uttered. 

Yes,  he  heard  it  all,  and  what  he  heard  at 


first  almost  made  his  blood  run  cold,  and 
then  fairly  drove  him  wild  with  rage  and 
horror. 

At  length  the  trio  of  villains  rose  to  go  out 
into  the  open  air. 

"It's  all  settled,  then  i"  said  the  Confed- 
erate officer,  in  a  highly  satisfied  tone.  "  We 
understand  eacn  other  perfectly  ?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Blyer,  "it  there's  no  mis- 
take about  the  gals— mine,  you  understand, 
is  Miss  Hilda  Mason." 

"That'sall  right,"  said  the  officer,  "I  don't 
care  a  copper  which  is  yours,  so  long  as  mine 
is  pretty  Miss  Wayne,  the  colonel's  daugh- 


'And 


Rugdon,  you  are  satis- 
iii-iTilla  chief. 
!-'li"d  the  new  lieuten- 
il   Yankee   girl's    good 


ant;     "tb.'    1.1 
enough  for  lue 

"Then  an  hour  hence,"  said  Blv.r,  in  a 
tone  of  decision,  "thecoloiifl  anil  tiirvcung 
lieutenant  die;  and  after  that  thr'triple 
marriage  ceremony  takes  place!  Ha,  ha! 
Captain,  it's  a  mighty  good  thing  for  you 
that  Loren  L,augford  hopped  the  twig  at 
Cedar  Mountain  the  other  day." 

"Yes,  indeed,"  assented  the  Confederate 
officer,  "and  now  let's  get  into  the  open  air, 
this  place  is  stifling." 

AH  right,   come  ahead,"  and  the  chief 


[colonel  and   Fen- 
if  the  cave. 
unci  Wayne,  in  as 
ild  command,  "let 


passed  : 

ton,  came  ind.  II 
"My  fric-ii.l,- 
steady  a  v>.i,i.  a- 
me  have  a  light. 
five  minutes.     I 


"  All  right,"  said  the  fellow,  and  some  ten 
minutes  later  he  handed  Fenton  Dunbar  a 
folded  note. 

The  young  lieutenant  opened  it,  and  by 
the  light  of  the  messenger's  torch  read  as 
follows : 

"  DEAR  Fenton  :-I  have  just  heard  the  details  of 
the  must  horrible  plot  ever  concocted  by   human  be- 


erpetrated,  you  will  understand  the  rest— I  ca 
erto  it  more  directly. 

"  Oh,  Fenton,  watch  over  my  Ellen— indeed, 
es  in  your  power  for  all  those  defenseless  ladii 
emember!  I  charge  you,  my  lovely  girl  muat 


honor  and  humanity,  set  her  pure  spirit  free.  Were 
there  no  other  hand  to  do  it,  I  would  emulate  Virginius 
could  I  get  to  her;  but  you  will  spare  me  so  fearful  a 
task-l  know  you  will.  God  help  us  !  we  live  in  fearful 
times,  when  a  fond  father  thinks  it  virtue  to  contem- 
plate the  deathof  his  own  beloved  child— and,  oh.  how 
1  love  her  !  I  cannot  venture  to  write  another  word. 
Remember,  Fenton,  I  depesd  on  you. 

"  PniLii-  Wayne." 

The  first  effects  of  this  letter  on  Fenton 
Dunbar  were  fearful.  For  a  few  moments 
he  was  like  a  madman,  and  the  friendly 
guerrilla  started  back  in  affright,  at  the  same 
time  laying  his  hand  upon  his  revolver  to 
defend  himself,  if  necessary. 

"Look  a-here,  Ueuteuaut,"  he  presently 
said,  "I  ain't  no  kind  o'  scholard,  an'  I 
hain't  got  no  kind  o' an  idee  what's  in  that 
thar  paper  ther  curnul  sent  ye ;  but  I  reckon 
thar  ain't  no  manner  o'  use  in  your  rearin' 
an'  tearin'  round  hyer  like  all  possessed,  in 
that  air  ridiculous  sort  o'  way.  Now,  is 
there?" 

These  few  timely  words  of  the  guerrilla 
somewhat  quieted  Fenton,  and  quickly 
understanding  the  necessity  of  keeping  cool, 
he  said  : 

"  You're  right,  I  was  too  hasty.  The  fact 
is,  I  was  a  little  provoked  at  something  the 
colonel  writes  me.  He  claims  I  didn't  do  my 
part  in  the  fight  at  Glenwood  the  other  day, 
says  if  I  had  done  as  well  as  he,  we  wouldn't 
be  here  now.  But  there,  he's  an  older  man 
than  I,  and  I'll  think  no  more  about  it." 

"Ther  cunuel's  wrong,  ef  he  says  yer  did 
not  tiirht  well,"  .-ifflrmed  the  guerrilla;  "  fur 
v.T.liiHi^ht  lik..  a.ll    jicssrss.^.l :    l>iit  you're 


um. 


'e.,s  the-  .il,-  l,.||,.i'  ,1,,1,-t  takeji;^  coufim 

After  the  me.ssenger  had  withdrawn,  Fen- 
ton set  himself  to  thinking. 

Yes,  he  at  last  concluded,  there  was  no  help 
for  it ;  if  the  colonel  and  he  must  die,  rather 
than  that  she  should  be  left  behind,  lu  the 
power  of  these  consummate  villaius,  Ellen 
should  die  by  his  own  hand. 

He  would  then  tell  the  others  what  was 
likely  to  be  their  fate,  and,  if  they  felt  so  dis- 
posed, they  could  take  their  own  lives  with 
the  knife  he  would  give  them. 

Three  quarters  of  the  hour  passed. 

Fenton  heard  footsteps  approaching. 


It  he  was  to  gain  the  apartment  occupied 
by  the  ladies,  not  a  moment  must  be  lost. 

He  went  to  the  passageway  leading  from 
his  own  door. 

The  man  left  to  guard  the  place  was  re- 
clining oil  a  bed  of  leaves. 

Whether  he  was  asleep  or  not,  Fenton 
couldn't  tell. 

Cautiously — noiselessly,  he  left  the  room 
and  slipped  into  the  one  occupied  by  the 
ladies. 

In  the  dim  light  he  saw  them  crouching  in 
a  corner. 

"Who's  there?"  demanded  Miss  Lydia, 
sharply,  and  yet  not  in  a  very  loud  tone. 

"Hist!"  cautioned  Fenton.  "  It's  me— Fen- 
ton Dunbar.  I  come  to  give  you  warning  of 
our  approaching  fate.    Can  you  bear  to  hear 

"  I  hope  we're  all  good  Christians,"  said 
Miss  Lydia,  "and,  as  our  lives  are  in  the 
hands  of  God,  that  we  will  be  resigned,  what- 
ever our  fate  may  be." 

Fenton     had    now   reached    Ellens   side. 


she  said,  in  a  faltering  voice. 

"Yes,"  he  answered;  "  and  the  trouble  is, 
there  are  but  a  few  moments  left  in  which 
to  tell  it." 

"  Are  w 
Miss  Lydia,  pointed!. 

"Worse  that  that — far  worse!"  faltered 
poor  Dunbar. 

"  What  can  be  worse !"  asked  the  maiden 
lady. 

"  Perhaps  the  easiest  and  best  plan  would 
be  for  me  to  give  you  this  letter,  and  for  you 
to  read  it  aloud,"  said  the  young  man. 

Miss  Lydia  took  the  letter,  and,  in  a  voice 
that  did  not  tremble  once,  read  it  through 
to  the  end. 

Then,  for  a  few  moments,  there  was  a 
deathlike  silence  in  the  place. 

It  was  broken  by  Ellen,  who,  in  a  voice  of 
unnatural  calmness,  said : 

"  Fenton,  you  will  surely  obey  my  father's 
last  request.  I  beg,  if  you  truly  love  me, 
that  you  will  do  so." 

An  agonizing  sob  was  her  only  answer. 

"And,  Lieutenant  Dunbar,''  said  Hilda 
Mason,  as  soon  as  she  could  catch  his  atten- 
tion, "  I  beg— I  entreat  the  same  great  favor 
at  your  hands." 

As  these  words  passed  the  lovely  Hilda's 
lips,  her  mother  uttered  a  moan  of  anguish, 
and  fell  fainting  into  Miss  Lydia  s  arms. 

"Lieutenant,"  said  Millie  Wardsworth,  "  I 
candle;  but  I  cannot  live  dishonored.  There- 
fore, 1,  too,  must  command  your  terrible  yet 
friendly  offices." 

"  I  shall  kill  myself,"  said  Miss  Lydia 
Wayne,  "  as  soon  as  I  see  there  is  any  neces- 
sity for  my  doing  so  ;  but  I  hope  to  kill  at 
least  one  of  the  villains  first." 

At  this  moment  a  number  of  the  guerrillao 
—Blyer  among  them — were  heard  in  the 
main  apartment  of  the  cavern. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  voice  of  the  chief,  "  bring 
out  the  colonel,  and  some  of  you  fetch  young 
Dunbar  along.  We'll  parade  'cm  together, 
and  send  'em  to  Heaven  in  company.  Then 
for  the  rest  of  the  fun  afterward." 

"Oh!  Fenton— Fenton !  they're  coming  ! 
Don't,  In  mercy's  name,  wait  another  min- 
ute!" murmured  Ellen,  hastily.  "Let  me 
■die  now,  and  by  your  hand." 

"My  God!  and  must  it  be!"  cried  the 
young  man,  in  very  agony. 

At  that  moment  there  was  another  loud 
call  in  the  outer  chamber. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE     TABLE     TURNED. 

"Hark!  keep  quiet,  both  of  you,"  com- 
manded Ellen's  aunt  Lydia.  "Then,  in  a 
more  gracious  voice:  "There's  time  enough 
to  die  when  all  hopes  of  a  happy  life  are 
passed.    They  are  not  coming  here  yet." 

At  this  moment  those  who  had  gone  for 
Fenton  made  their  report. 

"Not  there!"  roarnd  the  chiff.  Where 
thr  deui'c  is  In-  then?  Hecan't  Ijav,-  c-scaped. 

Some  time  was  uuw  lost  in  tlie  search. 

At  length  Blyer's  patience  gave  out,  and 
again  he'roared : 

"  Come  here,  you  confounded  fools,  some 
of  you ;  look  in  the  place  where  the  gals  are 
eonfiued—ten  to  one  he's  there,"  and  with- 
out waiting  to  see  whether  he  was  obeyed 
or  not,  he  liimseLt  hurried  forward,  followed 
by  his  lieutenant,  the  Confederate  officer, 
and  one  or  two  men. 

"  Bring  a  torch,  some  one,"  he  cried,  as  he 
stood  in  the  entrance  to  the  chamber. 

One  was  quickly  brought. 

"Ha— ha!  "  exclaimed  the  blood-stained 
villain,  "  there  you  are,  eh?    I   thought  so. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY 


'il 


Well,  I  suppose  you  might  as  well  die  right 
where  j'ou  are  now,  as  at  auy  other  place 
and  time,"  and  he  slowly  raised  a  pistol  to 
tal<eaim. 

"Now— now!  dear  Fenton,  quick,  or  it 
will  be  too  late,"  whispered  Ellen,  eagerly. 

"Must  it  l)e?"  almost  gasped  the  young 
man,  as  he  raised  the  knife  to  strike. 

"  Yes— yes;  quick !"  cried  the  courageous 
girl. 

"Ah!  that's  your  irame,  is  it?"  exclaimed 
the  guerrilla  chief,'  liastily.  "Take  that, 
then  ;  you  niiseralile  whelp." 

Two  things  combined  to  disturb  his  aim. 
The  first  was  the  sound  of  a  volley  fired  at 
the  moment  just  outside  the  cave,  and  tlie 
other  was  a  keen  knife-blade,  which  at  the 
same  instant  was  plunged  to  the  very  hilt  in 
his  back. 

The  pistol  shot  rung  out,  but  the  bullet 
Battened  itself  against  the  walla  of  the  cav- 
ern, doing  no  other  damage  than  to  bring 
down  a  shower  of  stalactites  to  the  floor, 


could  have  struck  that  timely  blow  with  the 
knife? 

The  latter  question  shall  be  answered  first. 

Colonel  Wayne,  finding  himself  suddenly 
left  without  a  guard,  and  rightly  judging 
that  Fenton  and  Ellen's  lives  were  in  immi- 
nent danger,  at  once  rushed  after  the  chief. 

As  Blj^er  was  about  to  fire,  he  quickly,  and 
unperceived,  snatched  a  knife  from  the  vil- 
lain's belt  and  buried  it  to  the  hilt  in  his 
back. 

Consternation  seized  upon  the  other  out- 
laws as  their  leader  fell  to  the  ground.  For 
a  moment  they  stood  as  if  stunned  ;  then, 
with  yells  of  rage,  they  turned  to  look  for 
the  hand  that  had  struck  the  blow;  but 
Wayne  had  already  disappeared. 

But  now  something  of  far  greater  moment 
commanded  their  {ittention.  Another  and 
still  another  volley  was  fired  outside,  and 
the  great  body  of  the  guerrillas  began  to 
press  hurriedly  into  the   cavern,   with  the 


Then  the  victorious  cheers  of  the  gallant 
Yankees  were  heard  as  they  rushed  toward 
the  opening  to  the  cave. 
Crack — crack— crack ! 
Down  drop  as  many  men. 
Crack- crack- crack ! 
Down  go  as  many  more. 
Then  a  volley  is  fired  into  the  very  cav- 
ern's mouth,  and  at  least  a  dozen  bite  the 
dust. 

"  We  surrender !  We  surrender ! "  was  now 
the  universal  shout,  and  the  battle  was 
over. 

"  Nobly— bravely  done!  Captain  Fairchild, 
and  it's  a  God-send  we  have  not  won  this 
victory  too  late  to  rescue  those  we  came  to 
save." 

"Thanks  for  the  compliment.  Grit,"  re- 
joined Charley  Fairchild,  now  a  captain, 
vice  Burnham,  promoted  to  a  full  majority. 
"  And  you  see  to  placing  a  strong  guard  at 
all  the  outlets,  so  that  not  one  of  the  villains 
may  escape.  For  I  swear,  by  the  living  God, 
that  if  a  single  hair  of  Fenton  Dunbar's 
head  is  injured,  or  if  any  harm  has  come  to 
your  lady  friends,  I'll  hang  every  mother's 
son  of  them." 

"  That's  the  talk,  captain.  You  suit  me, 
you  do,"  and  the  scout  started  out  to  place 
the  guards. 

"1  say!  bring  torches!"  cried  a  voice  at 
the  other  end  of  the  great  chamber,  at  this 
moment,  and  presently  the  cavern  was  fill- 
ed with  a  perfect  flood  of  light. 

Soon  all  the  guerrillas  were  secured,  when 
it  was  found  that  there  were  twenty-nine 
dead  and  wounded,  and  twenty-three  pris- 
oners. 

At  this  moment  a  Confederate  officer 
came  forward,  and,  addressing  Captain 
Fairchild,  said : 

"  Am  I  right  in  supposing  that  you  are  the 
commander  of  this  noble  party,  sir  ?" 

"I  have  that  honor,  colonel,"  responded 
Charley. 

"  I  am  Colonel  Philip  Wayne,  of  the  — th 
Virginia  regiment." 

"Ah!  colonel,  I  have  heard  of  you!"  ex- 
claimed the  Federal  ofBcer,  as  he  extended 
his  hand;  "you  were  held  as  a  prisoner 
by  these  consummate  villains,"  I  be- 
lieve?" 

"Yes,"  rejoined  the  colonel,  taking  the 
proffered  hand  ;  "  and  now  I  surrender  my- 
self most  cheerfully  to  you." 

"  I  trust  you  will  find  the  change  an 
agreeably  one;  I  shall  simply  take  your 
parole,  colonel." 

"  You  are  very  kind ;  and,  now,  may  1  ask 
you  to  step    this   way,  where  there  are   a 


number  of  ladies,  somewhat  disturbed,  no 
doubt,  by  the  recent  conflict  ?' 

"Certainly."  .    . 

"Captain— captain!"  called  a  whining 
voice,  from  among  a  heap  of  the  captives, 
"  I,  too,  am  a  Confederate  ofBcer,  and  was  a 
priscmcr  in  the  hands  of  these  villains— I 
trust  you  will  treat  me  with  the  same  cour- 
tesy you  have  shown  Colonel  Wayne. 


■  Ah ! 


Imost  forgotten. 
vou.  Captain  Fair- 
1  eagerly  for  a  mo- 


thrilling 

Let  me  sa' 

child;"  ai' 

ment  in  \-\\>-  i  :i|'t;iiii  .-  iiir. 

"  Why,  ii:illv,   coliiii.l,   the  request   is  so 

unusual— in    fiict,   the    thing    itself    so " 

began  Captain  Fuinhild,  hesitatingly. 

"And    yet "  interrupted    Wayne,   and 

again  he  whispered. 

"Yes— yes!"  exclaimed  the  captain  at 
last;  "  I  can  understand  how  you  must  feel 
about  the  matter,  and  if  the  dirty  whelp 
don't  object  to  your  plan,  I  won't." 

Colonel  Wayne  instantly  went  over  to 
where  the  Confederate  oiBcer  lay. 

"I  know  you.  Captain  Floyd,"  he  said, 
"  and  I  know  the  great  influence  you  exert 
at  Richmond.  But  I  also  know  you  for  a 
consummate  villain.  I  heard  all  that  passed 
between  you  and  Blyer  and  his  lieutenant. 
Now,  then,  if  you  will  fight  me  at  once, 
and  here,  you  have  a  chance  for  your  life; 
if  you  will  not  fight,  you  die  inside  of  fifteen 
minutes  by  the  rope." 

"This  is  hard,  colonel,"  whined  the 
cowardly  villain. 

"  Is  it  as  hard  as  the  fate  you  intended  for 
ine  and  my  daughter?"  exclaimed  the  col- 
onel sternly.  'Then,  as  Floyd  remained  si- 
lent: "Come!  be  quick— decide!" 

"  I— 1  will  fight !"  stammered  the  villain. 

"  Cut  his  bonds,  and  give  him  a  sword," 
said  Wayne,  to  one  of  the  guards.  Then, 
turning  to  Fairchild:  "Captain,  will  you 
lend  me  yours  for  a  moment?" 

Captain  Fairchild  silently  handed  him  his 
blade. 

The  colonel  advanced  toward  his  detested 
enemy. 

Suddenly,  Floyd,  thinking  he  saw  a 
enhance  to  get  in  a  death-blow,  rushed  bold- 
ly upon  him  with  uplifted  sword. 

Wayne,  however,  was  watching  him  with 
eagle  eye;  and,  as  he  was  about  to  strike, 
brought  his  own  sword  down  with  a  curved 
stroke  across  his  neck,  nearly  severing  his 
head  from  his  body. 

The  scoundrel  fell  dead  without  a  groan. 

"Now,"  said  the  colonel,  calmly,  wiping 
his  sword,  and  returning  it  to  Fairchild, 
"  let  us  go  the  ladies." 

"Willingly;"  and  they  hastened  to  the 
chamber  where  they  had  been  confined. 

They  found  Grit  already  there,  deep  in 
conversation  with  Hilda  Mason,  while 
Fenton  was  conversing  with  Ellen  and  her 
strong-minded  aunt. 

Millie  Wardsworth  was  seated  beside 
Mrs.  Mason,  who  had  just  returned  to  con- 
sciousness. 

On  hearing  approaching  footsteps,  she 
looked  up. 

"  Charley  Fairchild ! "  she  exclaimed,  and 
instantly  her  face  was  suffused  with 
blushes. 

"Millie!  Is  it  possible  ?"  cried  the  aston- 
ished officer;  "and  have  I  really,  without 
knowing  it,  been  of  service  to  you,  of  al' 
women  in  the  world  ?" 

"Indeed  you  have,  Charley ;"— then,  t( 
hide  her  confusion— "and  you  will  do  us  an 
other  great  service,  if  you'll  only  take  u 
away  from  this  horrible  place  with  the  least 
possible  delay." 

"Arrah!  be  aisy,  thin,  will  ye?  Och! 
lave  go  bitin'  av  me  fingers.  Ye  won't,  ye 
dhirty  spalpeen  ?  Thin  take  that !  and  that ! 
Och,  thin  ye've  let  go  at  last,  have  ye? 
Well,  I  know'd  long  ago  that  we'd  be  ther 
death  av  aich  other  some  day,  an'  sure,  it's 
come  thrue  at  last." 

"  What's  that,  Tim  ?"  asked  Fenton  Dun- 
bar, curiously. 

"  Why,  sor,  your  honor,  I've  jist  kilted 
ther  murdherin'  villain  what  wanted  to  kill 
all  av  us  that  day,  whin  ye  fell  into  ther 
wather  forninst  me,  ye  moind." 

"  What !— and  is  Blyer  really  dead,  then  ?" 
asked  Grit. 

"He  is,  sor." 

"I  thought  I  finished  him  myself,"  said 
Colonel  Wayne. 

"Y'edidnot,  thin,"  affirmed  Tim;  "but, 
sure,  he's  dead  intirely  now,  sor,  afther 
bitin'  me  fingers  nearly  off— ther  haythen, 
ther  Turk  !" 

"Well,  I'm  glad  you've  made  sure  of  him 
at  last,"  said  the  colonel,  "Now  there's 
only  the  scoundrelly  lieutenant  to  deal 
with." 


"  I  fixed  him  "  said  Grit,  calmly. 

"  Good !  Then  the  rest  can  be  easily  dis- 
posed of ;  we'll  leave  them  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  Uncle  Sam. 


"  I  don't  care  wl 
ers,"  exclaimed  M 
ly;  "but,  Charliy 
away  from  here  a^ 

"  I'm  perfec 


ines  of  the  prison- 
nlsworth,  warm-- 
',  1  say,  take  us 
-ar^  possible." 
le,  1  assure  you," 
laughed  the  handsome  Yankee  captain; 
"but  the  question  is,  where  shall  I  take  you 
to?" 

"Why,  back  to  my  house,  to  be  sure," 
said  Mrs.  Mason. 

"No!  no!  that  will  never  do,"  interposed 
Grit,  hastily,  and  then  he  whispered  a  few 
words  to  the  colonel. 

"  Mr.  Carroll  is  right,"  said  Colonel  Wayne, 
gravely;  " you  cannot  return  to  Gleuwood 
at  present,  dear  madam." 
"  And  why  not,  pray  ?" 
"The  fact  is,"  said  the  colonel,  slowly, 
"  these  miserable  vandals  haven't  left  the 
place  in  a  habitable  condition— for  one 
thing." 

"  Then  what  can  we  do  ?"  asked  the  poor 
lady,  almost  in  despair. 

said  (     .  ,  _  . 

emember  there  is  a  fine  large  house 
within  the  Union  lines,  which  I  can  easily 
manage  to  put  at  your  disposal— in  fact,  I 
promise  to  do  so.  And  then,  you  can  have 
the  society  of  Colonel  Wayne  and  Lieuten- 
ant Dunbar  for  as  long  as  they  are  willing  to 
remain  with  you,  and  I  pledge  myself  that 
they  shall  return  to  their  commands  the 
moment  they  have  a  disposition  to  do  so." 

"I  must  say  I  like  the  captain's  plan,"  said 
Colonel  Wayne,  after  a  little  consideration  ; 
"  and  I  am  sure  a  few  days'  rest  will  do  me 
no  harm.  The  fact  is,  my  friends,  I  received 
a  rather  uncomfortable  wound  at  Gleuwood 
the  other  day,  and  I  find  it  is  troubling  me 
even  now." 

"  And  for  my  part,  I  shan't  at  all  object  to 
keeping  your  company,"  said  Fenton  Dun- 
bar, heartily. 

"  And  if  we  go,  I  can  see  you  often,  can  I 
not,  Clinton  V"  Hilaa  asked  the  scout  in  a 
whisper. 

"You  shall  see  as  much  of  me  as  you  wish?" 
Grit  eagerly  answered. 

"That  will  be  a  great  deal,  then,"  she 
murmured,  with  downcast  eyes. 

"  Then  ]/o»,  at  leant,  think  none  the  less  of 
me,  for  fighting  for  the  old  Union  ?" 

"No,  indeed!"  Were  you  not  aware, 
CUnton,  that  I,  too,  am  Union  at  heart?" 

"You,  Hilda?— and  yet,  how  could  I  even 
doubt  it?" 

"  I  am  sure  you  need  never  have  done  so. 
For  my  part,  I  cannot  forget  that  my 
father  was  a  senator  of  the  whole  United 


my  dear  girl,"  exclaimed  Grit,  heartily. 
"  You  have  made  me  supremely  happy." 

"Fall  in!    Fall  in!" 

The  command  went  forth  in  cheerful 
tones,  and  soon  the  party  was  ready  for  the 
road. 

The  return  march  to  the  Union  lines  was 
accomplished  without  incident  or  accident, 
and  the  house  Captain  Fairchild  had  prom- 
ised them,  was  duly  turned  over  to  Mrs. 
Mason  and  her  party,  and  there  they  re- 
mained for  some  time. 

At  length,  when  a  new  movement  of  the 
armies  rendered  a  change  necessary,  Mrs. 
Mason  and  her  daughter,  together  with 
Aunt  Lydia  and  Ellen,  returned  South,  the 
colonel  and  Fenton  Dunbar  having  rejoined 
their  commands  some  time  before. 

But  Millie  Wardsworth  decided  not  to  go 
South  again.  She  listened  to  Charley  Fair- 
child's  earnest  pleadings,  and  they  were 
quietly  married,  he  obtaining  a  furlough  for 
the  purpose. 

For  a  bridal  tour  they  went  North  ;  and 
when  the  captain  was  obliged  to  rejoin  his 
regiment,  he  left  his  wife  with  his  mother 
in  their  pretty  country  home,  telling  them 
they  must  be  company  for  each  other,  until 
the  cruel  war  was  over. 

Time  sped  by. 

Battle  after  battle  was  lost  and  won.  Grit 
Carroll  and  his  three  brave  comrades  did  no- 
ble service,  seldom  resting,  and  always  found 
where  duty  called,  no  matter  what  the  dan- 
ger might  be.  But,  as  yet,  although  he  had 
fired  at  him  scores  of  times.  General  Stuart 
had  never  been  touched  by  his  bullets. 

At  length  oame  the  fearful  series  of  bat- 


24 


6-Ao 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


ties  fought  iu  the  vicinity  of  the  Wilder-  you  would  like,  I  will  tell  you  just  how  it 
was." 

All  were  respectfully  silent  while  he  spoke, 
and  they  could  not  be  otherwise  than  atten- 
tive, for  the  man's  description  of  the  battle 
was  so  precise,  so  circumstantial,  so  elo- 
quent, and  so  startlingly  vivid,  that  those 
who  had  been  there  seemed  to  be  living  the 
fiery  scenes  over  again. 

When  he  had  concluded,  all  imderstood, 
and  there  was  room  for  no  more  dispute. 

On  the  following  morning,  the  soldier  of 
Shiloh  went  to  the  office  to  settle  his  bill 
previous  to  departure,  and  asked  the  amount 
of  his  indebtedness. 

Said  the  landlord : 

•'  You  were  iu  the  army  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  May  I  ask  what  office  you  held  ?" 

"  I  held  no  commission,  sir.  I  was  but  a 
private  soldier." 

'■  If  it  possible?  Well,  sir,  I  shall  claim  the 
privilege  of  celebrating  this  rare  event  by 
making  you  a  present  of  a  receipted  bill 
without  further  cost  to  you.  Of  the  thou- 
sands of  soldiers  that  have  stopped  at  my 
house  since  the  close  of  the  war,  you  arc  the 
first  private  on  record!" 


'tits,"  and  drive  him  out  of 
the  conflict. 

"All  right,  general,"  said  Sheridan;  and 
instantly  he  started  after  the  great  laider. 

Two  days  later,  that  is  to  say,  on  the 
eleventh  day  of  May,  18G4,  his  cavalry  had 
reached  a  placed  called  Yellow  Tavern, 
about  six  miles  from  Richmond,  and  here 
they  encountered  an  immense  body  of  rebel 
cavalry  commanded  by  Stuart  m  person. 

Sheridan  instantly  ordered  a  charge,  and 
a  terrible  battle  at  o'nce  ensued. 

Grit  Carroll  was  in  the  van,  and,  as  the 
hostile  columns  came  together,  he  was 
brought  almost  face  to  face  with  Stuart. 

Like  lightniug  his  carbine  sprang  to  his 
shoulder. 

Crack  ! 

And  General  J.  E.  B.  Stuart  fell  to  rise  no 
more ! 

It  was  all  over  in  an  instant,  and  a  teelmg 
almost  akin  to  pain  or  sorrow  took  posses- 
sion of  him. 

"  That  is  mv  last  shot,"  he  said,  and  quiet- 
ly fell  to  the  iear. 

"The  fight  was  over.  Their  great  leader 
was  gone,  and  the  rebels  had  no  heart  to 
struggle  longer. 

Many  horses,  and  most  of  their  guns  fell 
into  the  Federals'  hands. 

It  was  a  great  victory  for  Sheridan. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

CON'CLnSION. 

When  Sid  Xewton,  together  with  Tom  and 
Charley,  came  upon  the  scout  that  night, 
they  were  alarmed  to  find  that  he  was  seri- 
ously wounded. 

"Yes,  boys,"  he  said,  "I'm  badly  hit,  the 
ball  struck  me  just  as  I  fired  my  last  shot 
But,"  he  quickly  added,  "it  doesn't  much 
matter  now,  poor  Elmer  is  wholly  and 
fearfully  aveuged,  at  last.  The  war  is  almost 
over,  and  so  I  shall  ask  for  my  discharge." 

A  little  later,  he  aid  so,  and  after  some  de- 
lay, it  was  granted. 

Soon  after,  he  and  Hilda  Mason  were  mar- 


__  reside  at  Glen  wood,  where  their  chil 
dren  fill  the  house  with  sunshine. 

Sid  Newton,  Tom  Merrett,  and  Charley 
Clayton  all  remained  in  the  army  until  the 
close  of  the  war.  They  have  since  bought 
large  tracts  in  the  South,  and  are  prospering, 
as  they  deserve. 

Captain  Fletcher  Burnham,  led  on  by 
ambition,  became  a  brigadier-general,  and  I 
have  heard  him  say,  that  had  the  war  lasted 
six  months  longer,  he  would  have  worn  two 
stars  on  each  shoulder  instead  of  one.  He 
is  now  a  member  of  congress  from  his  native 
state. 

Captain  Ingold  also  prospered  ;  but  he 
was  contented  with  a  major's  commission, 
and,  I  am  glad  to  state,  is  in  the  army  still. 

Tim  O'Connell,  God  bless  him,  became  a 
corporal,  and  after  the  close  of  the  war, 
man,  he  stumbled  into  a  fortune.  He  .s 
president  of  a  big  mining   company  to-day. 

Now  for  our  rebel  friends. 

Colonel  Wayne,  being  seriously  wounded 
in  the  Valley,  resigned  his  commisson  ic  the 
fall  of  1864,  and  thereafter  remained  quietly 
on  his  plantation,  where  he  still  resides, 
with  Aunt  Lydia  for  his  housekeeper. 

Fenton  Dunbar  became  a  captain ;  and, 
after  the  war  was  over,  married  Ellen,  who 
now  graces  his  beautiful  Richmond  home, 
he  being  a  bank  president  in  what  was  once 
the  Confederate  capital. 

[THE  END.] 

RARE  SPECIMENS. 


Perhaps  you  have  heard  of  the  rare  speci- 
mens of  soldierly  humanity  that  appeared  at 
a  popular  hotel  in  the  Southwest. 

Iu  the  large  bar-room  of  the  house,  during 
the  evening,  a  discussion  arose  touohiug 
certain  events  that  transpired  at  the  battle 
of  Shiloh. 

The  dispute  waxed  warm.  Many  of  those 
present  had  been  in  the  war,  some  engaged 
on  one  side  and  some  on  the  other,  and,  be- 
ing military  men— and  oilicers  at  that,  they 
were  very  emphatic. 

At  length  a  modest  gentleman,  who  had 
been  sitting  in  a  far  corner,  quietly  listening, 
arose  and  came  forward. 

"  Gentleman,"  said  he,  "  I  happened  to  be 
engaged  in  that  battle— was  in  at  the  be- 
ginning, aud  came  out  at  the  end— and,  if 


Persuasiveness  of  the  Musket. 

General  Steedman  tells  a  good  story  which 
is  applicable  to  the  manner  in  which  the 
aristocratic  Sixtieth  Rifles  recently  skipped 
out  in  front  of  Ramleh,  and  gave  everything 
up  to  the  Egyptians.  While  near  Nashville 
the  general  had  a  negro  regiment  on  the 
picket  line,  and  a  young,  bright  mulatto 
sergeant  in  command  of  a  post  got  the  drop 
on  a  rebel  post  and  captured  the  whole  out- 
fit. The  rebels  were  a  crowd  of  high-step- 
ping young  Virginians,  and  some  of  them 
were  badly  wrought  up  by  the  idea  of  having 
to  surrender  to  a  "lot  of  niggers." 

General  Steedman  took  their  commander 
a  fine  young  fellow,  into  his  tent,  extended 
some  little  courtesies  to  him,  and,  in  the 
course  of  his  conversation,  said: 

"It  was  a  little  tough,  lieutenant,  to  be 
taken  in  by  colored  soldiers,  but  war  has 
strange  experiences." 

"  Well,  general,"  said  the  other,  as  he  set 
down  his  glass,  "I've  l)een  in  the  army  now 
nearly  four  years,  and  if  I've  learned  any- 
thing, it  has  been  a  profound  respect  for  the 
musket.  When  the  muzzle  is  shoved  into 
my  face  I  don't  usually  ask  any  questions  as 
to  whose  got  hold  of  the  breech."— rotcdo 
Blade. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY 

Coutaius  Historic  Tales  of  tliv  War  for  the 
Union— original,  full  of  life,  daring  adventure, 
love,  intrigue  and  patriotism— the  unwritten  his- 
tory of  the  War.  Historically  true,  as  to  dates  and 
occurrences  ;  graphically  true  as  regards  possi- 
biUties,  these  tales  will  interest  as  well  as  enter- 
tain the  reader.  To  the  veteran,  who  will  fight 
his  battles  over  between  the  lines,  as  well  as  the 
rising  generation,  ever  eager  to  read  of  deeds  of 
patriotism  and  heroism  this  Library  will  be  a  wel- 
come -visitor. 

The  Wak  Libraby  will  be  issued  weekly,  com- 
plete in  each  number.  Fresh  and  original,  it  will 
occupy  a  new  field,  and  be  free  from  ultra  parti- 
zanship.    Price  ten  cents  a  copy. 

Catalogue  of  the  War  Library. 


I30-CHARCE  BAYONETS;or,  Fight- 
ing Under  Hooker,  by  Caiitain  Dick 
Stoadnian. 

I3I-SOLD  FOR  A  SOLDIER;  or,  The 
Life   of  His   Regiment.    A  story  of 

thcArinv-  .il    tli..    I'nt,.nia.-.     Ily    Ward   Ed- 

Isa-UNDER  LITTLE  MAC;  or,  The 
Spy    Catcher    of    Richmond.     By 

Major  A,  K.  Grant. 
133    BATTLE  ECHOES  ;  or,  Baudin's 
Boys   at   Chantilly.    Hy   Major   waiter 


of  a  Famous  t^ruise.    By  Licutenaut  Mayne 
Brace. 
135-STARS  AND  STRIPES  ;  or.  The 
Siege  of  Fort   Pulaski.    By  Major 
Hugh  Warren. 


136-MAJOR    PAULINE  CUSHMAN  ; 

or.    Daring    the    Death    Penalty. 

B.\  V.-:inl  E.Uvards.  "  Hi-li  Private  "  U.  8.  V. 
137-UNDER  TWO   FLAGS;    or.   The 
Field  of  Stone  River.    AGrapLieTale 
srlaud.    By  Mo 


Bedv 


uy  of  t 


Morris 


138-THE   DRUMMER  BOY;   or,  Out 

With  the  Twelfth  Corps.    By  Major 
Walter  WUnior. 
139-CANNONEER     BOB;     or.     The 
Blockade    Runner.    By   Major  A.  F 


l!-.ll 

I4I-HIVAL  CAPTAINS;  or.  Hero  of 
the  Pontoon  Bridge.  A  Story  of 
FiLdoricksbiirjr.    By  Colonel  Oram  Eflor. 

142  THE  OLD  FLAG;  or.  Into  the 
Cannon's  Mouth.  By  Captain  Forrest. 

143  BATTLE  BEN;  or,  The  Fortunes 

of  War.    A  Live  Story  of  Cliiekamauga. 

By  Morris  Kedwing. 
144-KNAPSACK  NICK;   or.    Wolves 

of  the  Chesapeake  Bay.    A  story  of 

the  War  on  Land  and  Water.    By  Corporal 

Morris  Hoync. 
145-SEVEN  PINES;    or.  Shot,  Shell 

and   Minie.  By  Warren  waiters. 
I  46-ALL  FOR  GLORY;  or.  Prisoners 

of  War.    By  Maj.  Walter  Wilniot. 

147  FIGHTING  FOR  FAME;  or.  The 
Confederate  Raider.  A  Story  of 
South  Mountain.  By  Morris  Redwing. 

1 48  "ON  TO  GETTYSBURG;"  or. 
How  the  Fight  Was  Won.  AThrii- 
ling  Story  of  the  I'hrco  Days'  Struggles.  Bj- 
Marline  Manly. 

149-DASHINC  0'DONOHOE;or,  The 
Hero  of  the  Irish  Brigade.  A  Story 
of  the  Seven  Days' Battles.  By  Lieutenant 
Carlton. 

ISO-LIFE  IN  LIBBY  PRISON;or, War 
Scenes  in  the  South.  A  Stirring 
story  of  the  Rebellion.    By  Col.U.S.Warren. 

■  SI-SHOULDER-STRAPS;  or,lnthe 
Nick  of  Time.  A  stirring  Romance  of 
Gettysburg.     By  Major  Walter  Wilmot. 

152-SHERIDAN  AT  APPOMATTOX; 
or,  The  Last  Great  Struggle-  By 
Ward  Edwards,  IT.  S.  V. 

153-IRON  ANDSTEEL;  or.  The  Fall 
of  Port  Hudson.    Major  A.  F.  Grant. 

1 54-HAWKIN'S  ZOUAVES;  or.  Thro' 
Leaden  Rain.  A  True  Story  of  a  Fa- 
mous Itigimcnt.    By  Major  Waiter  Wilmot. 

IBS-MALVERN  HILL;  or,  The  Union 
Spy  of  Richmond.  By  Corporal  Mor- 
ris Hoyne. 

136  TRUE  AS  STEEL;  or.  For  His 
Country's  Sake,  a  Rousing  Story  of 
the  Gunboat  Flotilla.  By  Lieutenant  Mack- 
into«h. 

157-GUNBOAT  DAVE;  or,  A  Whirl- 
wind of  Fire.  A  Rousing  Story  of  the 
Red  River  Campaign.    By  Morris  Redwing. 

IS8  GEN.  W.T.SHERMAN.  A  Story 
of  His  Life  and  Military  Services. 

Uy  W.  IL  ViUiOrdcn. 

159-SABER  AND  SPUR;  or.  Fated  to 

be  Foes.     By  Mon  Myrtle. 
ISO-BRAVE  BEN;  or.  The   Brunt  of 

Battle.    A  Romance  of  the  Chattanooga 

Canipai|-n.    By  M.  C.  Walsh. 
161    THE   FATAL    CARBINE;    or,   A 

Harvest  of  Death.    A  Stury  of  Cedar 

Mountain.    By  Major  Walter  Wilmot. 
162-HANDSOME      JACK,     or.     The 

Fortunes  of  a  Yankee  Middy.   A 

Talc  of  the  Navy  During  the   Civil  War. 


GENERAL  U.  S.  GRANT, 

Double  Number.  I'rlcc  20  ceiil 


■'AddrVss,'"'"N(jrvELISTPUBLISHINGCO.. 
'  No.  30  Rose  St.,  New  Yc 


